


The Long Walk Home

by Moonkum



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adult Sasuke, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anachronism, Anxiety, Canon Universe, Character Death, Crisis, Dark, Disease, Guilt, Identity, Illness, Long, Lost Powers, M/M, NaruSasu - Freeform, Nods to archaic syntax, Politics, Retribution, Romance, Sad, Sickness, Slow Burn, Tragedy, Trauma, Yaoi, adult Naruto, cripple, narusasunaru, old english
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-06-24 09:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15627678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonkum/pseuds/Moonkum
Summary: At the closing of the Fourth Great Ninja War Naruto and Sasuke were reunited. Together, they traveled the world and became men. They thought they had life all figured out--until an ambush informs them that the past won't rest. In Konoha, they find that impostors have stolen their lives, and the question of validity breaks apart their previous understanding of their own identities.





	1. Enter!! Tajuu Kage Bunshin-San!!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RealmOfTan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealmOfTan/gifts).



> I began writing this story when I first became ill. It was a great comfort to me, and helped me deal with complete downfall. It is probably more honest than I've ever been aloud, so if you're sick, it is my sincere hope that you will recognize yourself somehow in this story and take heart. If you are well, please enjoy the story all the same.
> 
> That said; here's the first chapter to what'll speak for itself in the end.

Konoha hospital. Room 37. Noon.

Twin beds stood parallel in a room with painted yellow walls. Its large window had been left open. A pleasant current drifted inside and accompanied with it was the liveliness of the city, the brush of an unusually long summer, which murmured in the branches by the window.

The sunlight felt warm. But that warmth failed to comfort rather than remind the boy upon whom it touched of the sadness in his heart. He, alone, noticed the chill on the incoming breeze.

Konoha looked just as he remembered it. He pulled the white, tough linen closer to his chin, and his bed being nearest the window, he was free to study the village—not seeing a single cause for celebration. The boy frowned at being reminded of his contempt for this place. He saw the funeral processions crawl down the side-streets, meanwhile the main way was filled with colorful banners and toasting. What was he doing back here? In the wake of death, subsistence dogs the mournful.

He was aware that he had a childish mind and could spit on himself for it. Because he didn’t have epiphanies, he kicked himself.

There was a rustle from the chair beside him. Naruto’s orange jacket slipped off his back when he stood up, and he was already turning toward the window.

“Hey,” Sasuke croaked “you’ll make yourself sick, hanging out in a hospital. Go home already.” Naruto made no reply to this vote of care, only lay a stern look on his friend and pulled the window shut. It sealed with a dull thud.

Sasuke was sick of seeing Naruto next to him, scurrying around the hospital room and performing favors he’d not asked for. He’d not left his side except to use the restroom, and even at those times he hurried right back. Naruto wasn’t sick—had fully recovered a week ago. And now that his own berth stood vacant, instead of just going home, he’d pulled up a seat and dedicated himself to torturing Sasuke with his concern.

Naruto grumbled some indistinct slur and sat back down, sighing. Sasuke glared at the bandages which had replaced the other boy’s right arm, then he looked at himself. His left arm was also missing. He wanted to be alone. Sasuke cleared his throat.

“I was cold, ya know,” Naruto interjected “it’s fuckin’ cold in here. Relax.” Naruto sank deeply into the chair, slouching, bored out of his mind, obviously.

“What I told you in the valley—we can talk about it after I’m cleared. You don’t have to sit here and watch me.” Naruto’s eyes bored into Sasuke’s for a long while before he answered him.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked. There was a sort of self-deprecating vengeance on his face. It smiled at Sasuke’s silence, and Naruto resigned himself to stressing the nightstand by pushing at it with his feet. It squeaked and thumped against the wall—but Sasuke only turned his head away, pretending not to hear it.

The boys spent a long time like this, and it wasn’t until Naruto had fidgeted with every possible thing in the room that Sasuke pulled on his blankets, shook his head from side to side and finally huffed.

“Yer leaving again,” Naruto stated before the other had chance to speak. He was superficially intent on pushing his fingers into the stuffing of the chair he was sitting in. On his lap lay an old coin and a candy wrapper—treasures from the crevices.

“I’m not going to up and vanish, “Sasuke groaned. “I’ll come find you. I’ll tell you ‘bye’ first.”

“Honestly?”

“. . .You’re just going to have to take my word for it.”

“Or—I’ll not let ya out’a my sight.” How Naruto was supposed to watch someone he could hardly stand looking at, Sasuke wouldn’t try guessing. He just wanted to be left alone.

Naruto’s hand strained on the cushion under him, rubbing the fabric until it was ripping. Sasuke took his pillow and pressed it to his ear, hiding under it and trying to block out the sound.

*

The boys had been brought to Konoha Hospital two weeks prior; each in a sorry state from what had happened at the Valley of the End. At the price of mutilation, Naruto had managed to end the war along with Sasuke’s stubborn animosity. He’d taken him home.

Matters were, however, not well between them—as can be expected from such a conflict. When they were both healthy enough to sit up on their own and no longer unbiddenly slipping into unconsciousness, Naruto had turned his head to Sasuke, but the other boy had looked away.

Sasuke was troubled; it was all Naruto could do to keep staring at him, willing him to cheer up. What’s more than his condition, the runaway’s presence was a beckoning star, a cool drink to the long-forlorn restorer. He was desperate to continue the all too brief exchange they’d begun in the valley, wanted to cement their relationship by at long last discussing it. But Naruto had taken ill. It was in that moment of need that Sasuke had nonetheless proved his affections and saved Naruto’s life by feeding Kurama his own chakra. Naruto had been restored to perfect health, and moved to close the distance between himself and his deceitful friend.

*

“I know what ya did for me.” A week had passed since Naruto’s and Sasuke’s admission. It was one week until the day Sasuke would be cleared to leave the hospital.

Naruto pulled up a chair to his friend’s bed and jumped in it. His movements were clumsy; he had an intense attitude like he’d burst if he didn’t stop himself. Sasuke ignored him to the best of his ability.

“Hey!” The pest wouldn’t stand it and took a hold of the bedframe, shaking it, forcing the other boy to focus on him.

“Quit it!” Sasuke exclaimed then. “Delicate as ever, I see!” Clapping his hand onto his knee, Naruto lent forward.

“Just—talk to me!” he commanded.

“Why?”

“Because ya want to! And I want it too, ya know!”

“Don’t say those kinds of things around me. Someone might hear you.” Sasuke knew what was coming; could read it across Naruto’s piercing expression.

“I was there; I knew what was happening! Well, mostly, anyway. You saved my life, so you can’t keep pretending not to care!”

“Oh, give it a rest!” Sasuke closed his eyes. “The only reason I did that was to ease my verdict. You may not recall, given the very recent blow to your big, dumb head, but I’m a wanted man, professor! Soon as I’m released out of this place, it’s the court.”

“What—yur saying you drained yurself like a raisin to look good? Well, thank you so much, I’m sure Kakashi-sensei’ll be mighty impressed—but what about the screaming?”

“Shut up.” He didn’t want to hear it. Sasuke shifted his legs like there were spiders in bed with him, at a loss for any other way to express his discomfort.

“I’m sorry—I know—I’m prodding a nerve but I just can’t give a damn to spare yer feelings when yur refusing to be honest with me! Alright? At that time, you were crying. You jostled some doctor to the floor! I could hear ya calling my name! I’m not gonna pretend I’m not absolutely sure now that you don’t even wanna live without—”

“Okay, just shut up already!” With a shout, Sasuke interrupted his friend. Naruto gaped at him and slowly sank into his seat. “When did I ever say that I didn’t care? Have I once said that? ‘Leave me alone,’ ‘don’t concern yourself with me:’ those are things I have in fact told you, and I stick by them. If you choose to take it as me not caring whether you live or die then do so!”

“I don’t— _want_ to think that I’m just an inconvenience! But until yesterday it’s really been nothing but mixed signals!”

“Mi—” Sasuke flew to sit up. At this blundering possession, he caused himself pain and was left gasping from it. Shaking Naruto’s hand off, he pointed to him angrily. “—back off! For once—in your god damned life—shut up and listen to me. What I said in the valley was, much as I hate to repeat myself, all true. Okay? Now, I want to move on from it and so I’m asking you to let it go.” What he wouldn’t confess to was the limit of his care, or the lack thereof. The bright-headed clown, of course, wasn’t wholly unaware, had refused to believe from the start that Sasuke didn’t actually want to be pursued, and the fact was a thorn in the sole of Sasuke’s foot. “You win, Naruto,” he emphasized with a slight laugh. “I’m a Konoha shinobi to the day I die.” He knew exactly what more Naruto wanted from him besides his loyalty, but he wouldn’t give it. “I don’t want to be around you.” It was precisely out of care that he pushed him away. “You can—think of us as friends if it makes you happy, just leave me alone.”

To this Naruto would not abide. Air angrily shot out of his nostrils and he took hold of his chair, scooting forward with it so that the room rebounded with the dissonant sound of wooden pegs dragging on linoleum. Sasuke twitched.

“Ya know—” the bereft boy began quietly “—yur the last person in the world who’d be able to trick me, Sasuke, so ya can stop trying. I’ve lost too many important people in too short a time; don’t tell me I’m about to lose you too. Yur here—and I know that that means as much to you as it does to me.” The distinct quiver to his voice compelled Sasuke’s attitude to soften. “Yur finally looking at me,” breathed Naruto, elated. “You don’t have to be alone—”

“Do—n’t.”

“—You can be with—with me, ya know.” Despite Sasuke’s shaking head, Uzumaki dared that which he’d been forbidden to address. As a rebel, he gleamed. Excitement visibly surged in him, turning him a bold shade of pink. “You can!” he said again.

“No, I already said ‘no!’ because I don’t want that!” Sasuke grew worried the more significant this interaction turned, and his voice was clamoring while he spoke in a fright, all the time avoiding the other boy’s advancement.

“But yer lying!” chuckled Naruto, baffled and leaning closer. “Are you afraid of me?”

“Ha! As if anyone could seriously be afraid of you.”

“Yeah, try saying that again without the imprint of my fist on yur jaw. Ya know, there’re things I’d give my other arm to talk to you about—if you could just stay honest for five fucking minutes.” Naruto hopped up on the mattress after saying this, rubbing his brow and collecting himself. “I really—I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said to you, but all you do is lie. So, I’m just not gonna listen because I already know anyway.” He fixed Sasuke with a certain look, one that was insufferably wise to all that the young Uchiha continued to refuse him. Sasuke was nearly sick with emotion at this turn. Naruto braced himself and lent toward the other boy, the bed whining loudly. Before touching home however, Sasuke put his hand quickly against Naruto’s shoulder.

“Won’t you ever do as I say?” Without verve, a question falls flat, and so the blonde only tilted his head in response.

“Sure, I will. As soon as you tell me something real,“ he persisted.

“You must’ve grown dumber with age if you think I’m about to let you. . ." Naruto blushed. Although it appeared as if his adolescent nerves were sufficiently rattled, Uzumaki’s damned stubbornness caused him to shrug off Sasuke’s hand. At so doing, he stilled and stared in surprise. Uchiha was exposed as a liar and that feeble hand of his was seized at once.

“Stop it already,” pleaded he but as his lips were fanned and covered. The tension in his body willed Sasuke to be quiet and pretend his heart was not become a fluttering bird, until it forced a humiliating sound to evacuate his throat and he therefore pushed at the other boy with all his strength.

“Enough!” he hissed. “I can’t—I’ve nothing to share with you, don’t you see that?” This, the sound of Sasuke’s urgency, he could hear, confessed to a complicated wound. Naruto did not relent.

“Yur the one who can’t see, bakasuke.” Their lips touched once again. Sasuke was simply unable to remove himself, would’ve gladly expired for the power to dislodge now that things had finally come so far. But he was impotent. Gaping in this unlikely moment, he was taken into the blonde’s embrace, felt his grip enthrall him in earnest.

“I won’t leave you alone. Yer not alone, you poor bastard.” Mumbling, sorry to say it because there was likely no other choice; guilt surely constricted the roam of his breath for his heart which was beating wildly in his chest as he pulled Sasuke in was made apparent to him who could also feel it. He was careful to hold him not too tightly. Uzumaki had encountered shame and brushed it aside that he may sin on more—a misreading of some moral letter. Sasuke understood all this and forgave it in secrecy.

Uchiha hid. He was so still, one might be inclined to believe he was furious or even asleep, but just as Naruto seriously cowered, endeavoring to see his face without him knowing of the attempt somehow Sasuke sighed, the unmistakable noise of approval relaxing Naruto’s posture anew.

Sasuke felt his skin being caressed through the openings of his tied-on gown. The fingers caught clumsily on the knots each time the hand journeyed up and down, and to the unpredictable raven, zeroed in on that narrow point in space, its awkward gait was spellbinding. Nearly lost in impatience, almost destroyed by his mute rejection and that ungodly prehensility which clawing at his innards tempted to alter him, Uchiha swallowed down the shriek thereby produced, and nonetheless reclined unto that stuttering contact. Only for a moment would he stay like this. He knew, of course, that he couldn’t allow it. But for a little while, he could have a taste.

Sucking on his lips so’s to be quiet and trailing his hand let free off his visage down the body, eliciting a shiver of the recipient, and lightly picking up the shirt covering Naruto’s side, just above the hip, there he let rest his hand and could feel the heat radiate. His face was on fire, and hating himself for his weakness a thousandth time in his life, he couldn’t move away.

The fingers of that trailing hand grew bolder, their owner restless, and as they lingered all the time at the knots, Sasuke’s mind stormed with curiosity. Slipping in underneath the fabric, calloused fingertips tilled in their venture a would-be-verdant way, were it not that Naruto, with a sigh, tried his luck. His touch proved too much.

The dark-haired youth woke as from a nightmare. His throat closed as he became acutely aware of what he had let happen, and that of his still current position. He jolted back, staring like a murderer.

This wasn’t part of the plan, he thought. He was supposed to leave the moron alone; let him live his life and not persist in tormenting him! Sasuke, mumbling unintelligibly of this, scooted backwards and away from the other boy. In fact, in his urgency he pushed himself so far that his hand missed the mattress and he promptly fell, this resulting in quick maneuvering on the stunned blonde’s part, who caught him around the chest only to fall along with him due the lack of another arm with which to support himself. They both hit the floor, hard.

“Ah!”

“G-kh!” The other boy broke Sasuke’s fall; and the pain this caused made his eyes roll.

“Jee—sus—fuck—me!” Naruto cried. “What’re ya trying to kill me? At least have the courtesy to give me a heads up first—you always did before! Oh! My god!” He clenched his one fist as hard as he could.

Sasuke looked at his friend who was laying on the ground, laying under him, and it stuffed his chest with a terrible sensation that soured his insides. He frowned sadly.

“You—” he tried to say, and Naruto stopped his wailings long enough to look back up at him, though grinding his teeth and with blood at his lip. “You’ve bit yourself.” He pointed to his own face all but absently.

“Tch!” the blonde spat, irritated. “Yeah! Probably from when I just fuck-fell off the bed and you headbutted me!” Sasuke didn’t reply to this, he only lay there staring at the other with all the grievances in the world pushing him down and keeping him in place. He could not have this.

“Are ya okay?” Naruto asked him. Sasuke grumbled in the affirmative and began to raise his body.

“Bull crap. Let me see it.” Raising himself up halfway and coming closer, Naruto lent toward his friend to inspect him, however this friend responded with all the application he ought to have had earlier on this day. He gave a startled shout and punched his assailant in the chest, held him at an arm’s length at the same time he kicked his feet to get away. His back hit the bed behind him. Naruto coughed. “What the—hell is the matter with you!” he demanded to know. His expression was at first one of indignation, but soon it altered, the lines about the mouth relaxing while the brow rose upward until he was unmistakably shameful. Sasuke knew what Naruto would make of his own panting, stricken fright; and rightly so, looking to his own self as one looks to a disaster, because Uchiha figured it was for the best if it prevented any such debacle reoccurring. Naruto fell backwards on his rear as he gasped, suddenly all regret and conviction.

“Sasuke!” he choked. “I didn’t mean to—I—”

Sasuke had a hold on him, it was therefore easy for Naruto to be manipulated—such is love and innocence. He felt so convinced by Sasuke’s implication, of the useless influence he had on the surroundings he dwelled in that he for the first time doubted his own character. What good was he if when doing what he wanted to do (this want derived from what he reasoned to be fair) his satiation ended up fed by some other poor soul’s distress? There you have a villain, nothing fancy, just plain old stupidity.

“Don’t touch me!” pressed Sasuke, falsely.

“I thought—I’m sorry!” Naruto couldn’t reason for anything where Sasuke was concerned.

“Just shut it, dead last! Be quiet already!”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“Well, you never think, do you!?”

“Yer right! Please believe me!”

“Be quiet.“ Sasuke was willing to let Naruto believe that the reason he panted and why sweat glossed his skin was due some transgression of which the garish lead was he. Sasuke was horrified at what had just transpired, but certainly not for the cause Naruto now bewailed. He pressed his knees together to hide himself.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” The blonde lowered his head to the floor, and displayed himself as he was at the mercy of self-hatred. He bowed his back and wept bitterly. “I’m sorry!”

Sasuke shut his heart on the chanting implorations, knowing that he was truly helping by letting his friend believe in the lie. But he could not escape the knowledge, all things considered, how in Naruto’s pleading voice there presented an obvious injury which begged forgiveness of all the world. He knew that wailing well.

The room rang with the sound and Sasuke counted the seconds passing by.

*

One week later, it was the night of our introductory day, and Naruto lay asleep in his damned chair, snoring with his head propped in his hand. Sasuke stood upright in the room, illumined only by street lamps from without. It was raining, and the sound permeated. He watched the resting form of his friend, saw his chest rising and falling with each breath.

The last week had passed by with a lethargic pace; they had hardly wished to talk after that they had harrowed one another. Except that shortly over lunch one day, Naruto had apologized one final time; blowing at his soup he’d whispered:

“I’m sorry, Sasuke.” The adressee wondered a moment if he’d heard his friend speak at all. “For everything. I’m sorry. I get it now, I think. Ya know, the reason I wouldn’t back off before or—ever, really—is because I knew you weren’t being honest with me. I may not be as smart as you but that doesn’t mean I’m as dumb as you think either, ya know. I guess I just kind of assumed that you’d be okay with it—with how ya feel, I mean. If I could just tell you: ‘I know what you’re saying,’ I figured everything was gonna be okay. And that was stupid of me; that was real dumb. I get it now, so, I’ll back off. You don’t have to worry about me. I just thought that—that it was gonna be easier to feel these really big things, but it’s not easy at all.” Finally looking up from his bowl, he fastened his gaze on Sasuke. “You don’t wanna feel the way ya do, right?” he asked, biting his lip. “That’s the way it is, ain’t it?” Sasuke had nodded his head. To which Naruto had sighed deeply, and begun playing with his spoon in the soup, pouring the stuff and stirring it for no good reason. “Thought so. “

A minute passed in silence before Naruto again broke the extended tension between them.

“But I—wanted it,” he made clear. “I still do but I’ll get better, so, for now I’m sorry about that but—like—I felt so sure I knew what was in your heart and what ya weren’t telling me. I guess it was naïve to think ya wouldn’t be more complicated than that.”

“…You spend too much time inside your own head, Naruto.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I guess I do. I didn’t know you were scared or maybe I didn’t wanna know. I wish you would’ve told me but—I’m kinda wondering if I would’ve believed you, the way I was thinking.” He paused before sounding a guilt-ridden laugh. “It won’t happen again—I promise you. Okay, Sasuke? I promise.” Sasuke felt his heart breaking. “I’ll move on, just like you want, so don’t be a stranger okay?” Naruto’s smile shook. “Don’t you know how I feel about you? Hey, Sasuke—I love you, ya know!”

*

The young Uchiha frowned at the memory, suppressing a sigh where he stood, alone in that room with the fast-asleep Naruto whom he’d tortured so thoroughly at last. For a second, he doubted himself.

He pulled his bag higher on his shoulder and walked out the door. As soon as the court was finished with him, he’d be able to come to terms with his destiny—so long as Naruto was safe from his fucked-up disposition, he could retire on the knowing of having done some good in his life at least.

*

Two months later, Sasuke had gone to see Naruto of his own. In order to tell him of his leaving, he’d stopped by at his place like he’d said he would, but expecting not to be let in. He’d been correct in that assumption.

Naruto had opened the door in his heart-patterned boxers, having slept all day, looking frazzled as well as confused to see his visitor. Standing in the doorway as such, offended neighbors sneered at his scanty attire, but he’d listened with surprising patience as Sasuke went off on an informative rant concerning his wayfaring plans. He’d explained that he wouldn’t be back for quite some time, and soon as he was finished, the blonde had asked him only the one question.

‘Are you done now?’

Following that, Sasuke gave his reply in the affirmative and Naruto had confirmed with a monosyllable before shutting the door in his face. Uchiha didn’t know what it was he’d expected in all fairness. It had been his wish, after all, for his friend to move on and not care what he did anymore. But he’d not been expecting it to hurt so much.

*

“Well, to be honest—" Kakashi spoke solemnly “—under any normal circumstances, you’d have been imprisoned for life. The reason your wishes are being entertained and your crimes acquitted is because of your instrumental aid in dispelling the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Of course, that alone wouldn’t have gotten you off the hook. This is thanks to support from the hero and central force in ending the war, Naruto, and myself as the sixth Hokage vouching for you—take care to keep that in mind. And, try to also keep yourself under control, yeah? Cause this time it’s my ass on the line. . .”

“Yeah, sorry.” Sasuke didn’t know what more to say or do other than apologize and bow his head. He’d done nothing but ask forgiveness over the last couple of months, and as he now felt damned repetitive and unabatedly ashamed, the word ‘sorry’ served as a spell of summons for his feelings of inadequacy. He looked curiously to Sakura, whom stared, stood on tiptoes and looked about ready to burst with something.

“You’re really gonna leave?” she managed to squeeze out after what felt like hours of fidgeting. “Even though Tsunade-sama is almost finished creating your new arm out of Hashirama’s cells. . .” Looking at her, Sasuke thought it was funny how even though it was December, and although they lived in probably the strangest place in the world where winter struck at random, Sakura was dressed for a summer outing, wearing what bared her legs and arms like the temperature outside didn’t warrant his nor Kakashi’s own assortment. 

“Look—" he said “—right now, I need to see the world for myself, so I’ve no qualms about getting on my way. Thanks to you and Naruto I feel like I’ve been given a second chance at life, and I’m not about to let that reality-check pass by unattended to. I need to see the truth of the place I once swore vengeance on. Since I no longer feel that way, it’s important I know the people and see the places which were briefed on something before I, regrettably, was not. I’m not proud of what I’ve done. I need to make this journey of atonement, and—there’s a few things that’ve been on my mind.” His thoughts went to that of his previously stated heroic friend.

“Well,” the sound of Sakura’s light voice aborted his reverie, and his attention shot to her. “What if I asked you—to—take me with you?” There it was. She’d finally mustered up the courage to graduate their relationship; alter the way she spoke to him. Sasuke felt like banging his head to the village gateway. Hoping in vain, sure, but vanity nonetheless qualified as an excusable cause for reluctance, didn’t it? He’d hoped to escape this confrontation.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care for Sakura—he cared a great deal. He considered her his friend, though he wasn’t 100% on how to talk with her as he felt uncomfortable with the idea. Childhood friends, teammates. . .it didn’t matter in the long run what they were called as he didn’t know all that much about her to begin with. What did she even think about on a daily basis? What would he say?

The girl loved him, though, he knew that. And the fact filled his heart with tenderness since he could feel that love and appreciate it as it wasn’t directly tied to his self-loathing anymore, to his place in Konoha and his refrain from fulfilment.

But loving someone, no matter how much nor how pure are one’s intentions, is not enough to guarantee their reciprocation. In fact, sometimes, one may lavish so on them that one pales, and the object of one’s desires may notice this or even they may not; given is that love obeys no law, and there has not been a case where it took pity on a fervent devotee. Sasuke knew this better than anyone.

 “This is a journey I need to make alone,” he proclaimed. “It’s really got nothing to do with you.” Sasuke, being a person who couldn’t tell a brazen act apart from an earnest one, thought seriously on how to reject Sakura’s advances without hurting her feelings. He did not notice the girl’s quite understandably dejected spirits, nor that of her drooping shoulders, or the raincloud above her head.

“Nothing to do with me?” He bridged the gap between them, smiling as he’d made up his mind to the how-to format and when her face lifted hopefully he poked her forehead, saying:

“I’ll see you when I get back!” Enthused, because by this fraternal gesture he believed that Sakura would be able to understand without the additional just how much she mattered to him. “And—" he added “—thank you.” Sakura shone although muted by emotion, and Sasuke believed that all was now settled them between.

Not all people are capable of communicating in omission—this is a rarity.

*

Sasuke left Konoha at long due last behind and he felt good about the road which sprawled out in front. It looked now inviting then thrilling, brimming with promise and new beginnings!

The road led the way far from who he’d been, and there in the wayside dust might he even drop his name down to leave. Piously, he fanned the flame of excitement which exhaled in freedom. Freedom! It was delicate yet. To forget—how could he? A heart that loved would not beat for disillusion but break instead, and Sasuke’s heart skipped a beat at a loss, bloodshed, an afterloaded second thought; it, too, wished for freedom; it couldn’t live be it not for a without cause. Sasuke suffered this existence bravely.

‘Don’t you know how I feel about you? _’_ The sound of his footsteps on gravel and sand accompanied lonely thoughts, mingling with the about him sylvan chorus.

‘Hey, Sasuke—' Bird calls of geese taking off, leaving like he for better pasture. He saw them fly overhead in an arrow formation.

‘—I love you, ya know!’ He closed his eyes just as a firm wind blew. It was precisely the sort which grabs ahold of one’s coat and wraps it round the body, so did it his then.

Sasuke stayed his step and adjusted tussled locks, sweeping it all behind the ear when he saw a familiar shape which lent against a tree some meters off. The figure watched him in turn. For a moment, all that happened were the inspired winds’ fawning about the two bodies adrift in the element and their silence, their staring, silent faithfulness.

On hesitant feet Uchiha closed the distance at the beckoning of him, the one who waited.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he told him. Naruto merely grunted for his reply, and glared awhile as if speaking without words. Sasuke knew that look and the message therein. He snorted. “Again with this, huh?” Naturally, the other boy understood that this time Sasuke wasn’t meaning to come back from his knightly mission. The miscreant felt sure he faced a beating when Uzumaki straightened his stance, however much to his surprise, the blonde actually smiled at him like he hadn’t seen in months. He seemed relieved.

When Naruto held out his hand, Sasuke curiously looked down. His forehead protector gleamed in the sunlight.

“I’m returning this,” Naruto said. He was trying to look grumpy, but couldn’t quite hide the twinkling in his eye. Laughing quietly, Sasuke accepted his precious memento.

“I’ll hold onto it—until we can conclude this thing between us,” he promised. Naruto shrugged. Touched that his friend had kept such a thing for so long, he interrupted his own train of thought by clearing his throat, forcing his attention to the waiting road. “Well,” he tried to say, and hurrying to go he turned—but was held fast.

“Who said anything about conclusion or whatever?” Naruto asked him, holding him by the shoulder. “We’ve come so far, Sasuke, ya think I’m just gonna let you run off and have all the fun by yurself now?” Uchiha was struck by lightning. The other boy stood himself close before him so that their noses all but touched. There thudded a heavy knapsack on Naruto’s back. “You’re coming?” Sasuke unearthed forth his meagre understanding. “I already told you—"

“Duh?” Raising an eyebrow, the corners of Uzumaki’s mouth firmly downed. “I already told _you_ —that I’ll start doing what you say soon as you start making sense. What part of ‘I’m not letting you out’a my sight’ don’t you get?”

“. . .But I don’t want—"

“Want, shmarnt! Suck my dick!” spat Naruto, grimacing fiercely. “If yer worried I’m about to get weird on you, don’t. I’m over it. So, you can look forward to our usual accord—god. Can’t wait to not get along with your strictly plutonic hang-ups again, ya know.”

“Pla—tonic.”

“Whatever. As is expected of an introverted bastard like yourself, ya pick up and run off because it seems like a great fucking idea every time you’ve got a problem. Flattered as I am to be so influential that ya piss yourself and hightail it, without giving me more than a few days’ notice I barely had time to pack, ya know!” Sasuke stared mutely, and as this persisted Naruto shoved him, adding: “don’t look too happy, ya might faint not being used to it.”

“So—you want things—to go back to normal—between you and me?”

“And why not?”

“I—might not be very—pleasant to be around—after a while.”

“. . .You’ve not been pleasant once since I met you. Am I supposed to deal with Konoha while you go on a damned vacation? Hey, screw you, alright? I’m coming.” Jabbing him in the chest with a sharp index finger, Naruto took Sasuke’s bag from him and began walking. Sasuke scrambled after him, shocked senseless and all inquiry.

“But what about becoming the Hokage? That’s always been your dream; don’t just throw something so important away!”

“Ha!” Naruto barked a laugh “Oh that’s rich coming from you! Sure! I’ll not throw important stuff away—aye aye!”

“I’m serious!”

“Relax! I’m not bailing on my dream; Kakashi-sensei’s Hokage now anyway. I’ll get my turn. Besides, what kind of Crap-Kage would I be if I wasn’t at least strong enough to make our friendship work without ya freaking out and thinking ya can’t talk to me about stuff—and I couldn’t travel! What! I want to see the world too, ya know!”

Sasuke stuttered, scratching his head. Unable to subdue his nearly deranged relief, he looked off for a while as Naruto prattled on ahead of him. Sasuke knew that the other boy was trying hard to keep his attitude high; Naruto had been sensitive for as long as he’d known him, and wasn’t the kind of person who could just ignore his own feelings. Things could not be alright with him, just as they were not alright with himself. But that he was here, that he forced his way into his life yet another time, it was more than Sasuke could combat. Perhaps it would be okay for the two of them to not be alright together. Maybe Sasuke could learn how to be gentle.

 “Give me my bag, loser.”

“No. I’m carrying it.”

“What would even be the point?”

“The point—smarty-pants—is an expression and a gesture of partiality! I’m telling ya, I got it!”

“You’re going to break something! Just—"

“No!”

“Give it to me!”

“NO!”

“OH MY GOD—YOU’RE SUCH A CHILD!”

“AND THAT OUT’A THE RIGHT FACE!” The two friends’ silhouettes faded on the horizon, fighting and pulling on bags unceasingly. Who knows what awaits them beyond that line?


	2. Kakashi's Apprentice

Three years and two months had passed since the war was over, and the people of the five great nations (the Daikuni) were just recovering. In Konoha, a good portion of the village had been rebuilt, families were forming and graduations were celebrated with much pride and satisfaction by the whole community. It was the era of kinship—an attitude which unfailingly springs up in those nations touched by ruin.

At the Hyuuga estate, in the garden of the clan leader, fresh snow was fallen. Hyuuga Hiashi, with the type of astonished air only advanced age may bring, had taken one look at this nature’s wonder over breakfast and smiled. He’d invited his two daughters to visit him, and most especially underlined his young grandson’s welcome with twice the sentiment necessary. Grandparents love their children’s children with a tenderness which is incomparable to any other love, and for this sake, Hiashi was happy to humor his eldest daughter’s wish to bring with a guest of her own. Uchiha Sakura took her own child along to Hinata’s father’s house.

The four adults were in the garden together with the cherry-cheeked toddlers Boruto and Sarada (2 and 1.5 years old respectively.) All save the two mothers were making angels, little igloos with candles inside and laughing lightheartedly. Hinata and Sakura sat on the porch steps, watching absently and nursing steaming cups of coffee. They spoke in hushed tones.

“I’m sorry for your sake,” said Hinata. She was looking at the cup in her hands instead of her friend. Meanwhile Sakura’s world was centered on the little girl sitting in Hanabi’s lap, clapping her hands.

“Don’t be—" she protested “—it’s my own fault.” Sakura’s appearance was haggard. Her hair looked brittle in its tight knot, and her cheeks were pale with fatigue. Hinata put her arm around her waist.

“It’s not your fault at all! I have an idea. Maybe he’s upset because he’s yet to have any sons? You remember his older brother and how much Sasuke-kun looked up to him.” Hinata had for the passed two and a half years acted as a sort of guidance councilor to Sakura. It was a task that she took very seriously and prided herself on. It was also the root of her affections for Sakura whom she’d come to consider a sort of younger sister in matrimony.

“I already thought of that. Getting pregnant again, on the other hand, is out of the question now.”

“But why?” Laughing at the naivety of such an idea, Hinata intended to inspire but struck a sore nerve.

“You know why! I’ve told you!”

“Yes, of course I know, I’ve listened very carefully all throughout this whole affair.” The reminder was like that of a teacher reprimanding her student, and Sakura immediately recoiled out of habit. “From day one. . .”

“I’m sorry—" she said “—you’ve been a great support ever since this started. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“He’s not in a bad mood around the clock! There’s no way he is. What you’ve got to do is approach him at a time when he’s calm and get to the bottom of what’s the matter! I know it’s not your cleaning or cooking, you do those things so well.”

“Hinata, while I appreciate your effort in helping me and Sasuke, let me just say this again: there is no reasoning with him! It’s impossible! I’ve tried—God, have I tried!” Hinata released her grip on Sakura to show her distaste at such a suggestion. She shook her head pointedly. But although Sakura had for a long time venerated Hinata’s advice, she was ultimately convinced by this gesture that she herself knew best what was going on in her marriage. “I’m not letting him in the house,” she said sternly, and refastened Hinata’s regard. The fair nobless flared her nostrils and stared at her friend.

“What?” gasped she. “You’re locking him outside? Your own husband!”

“I’ve put a board over the window so he can’t get in that way.”

“I don’t believe it!”

“I’m out of options.”

“Look at your daughter!” Hinata pointed into the garden. “Do you want her to grow up without her father? The harm—you are causing her—”

“What you just don’t understand is that I’m keeping her father locked out and away from her precisely for her sake. I know how you must think of me because I’m betraying my vows. It’s not going to stop me however. Sarada’s safety is more important than keeping promises or saving face.”

“I—” Hinata stood, taking the cup from Sakura’s hands “—I couldn’t disagree with you more. If this is truly your choice, then please be aware that you are throwing our friendship away.” Sakura stared for a while at Hinata’s determined expression and knew she was serious. So, with deep sadness she replied:

“. . .Then consider it thrown.”

“Leave my father’s house, please, Uchiha-san.”

 

*

 

“So~ the foreign administration’s nowhere to be seen?”

“Probably gone up press secretary’s ass, ya know.”

“You shouldn’t say that. But now that you have: I’m guessing we’ll not see him again before the snow thaws.” The Hokage and his trainee walked languidly atop the crest of Konohagakure, by the railing, in the breeze, as the sun came down. They both gazed out at what they wrought and felt pleased with themselves, felt that life had meaning here on the summit of land and of day. Their mood was of a mutual sense of accomplishment even though nothing particular had been accomplished whatso, but they enjoyed each other’s company.

“That’s fair,” the trainee sighed. “It’ll be too cold to get any real work done soon, and then why bother at all, right?” The sarcasm spewed out his orange-lit face.

“Of course, then there’s summer vacations.”

“So really all the council’s good for is the first half of spring and just the beginning of autumn, while you and I promenade. No wonder work piles up.” The sixth Hokage, Hatake Kakashi, laughed. He was tickled by his prodigy’s youthful impatience, and clasped his shoulders as if asking to hear more of it even while his lips pursed and shushed the folly to silence.

“You are still a boy,” he pointed out. “It’s typical of sprightly up-and-comers to quickly find fault with the line of management. You want administration to run as fast and effectively as you do. Your elders can’t keep up, Naruto. Consider that.”

“If they can’t—maybe they should be replaced.” The trainee broke contact with his mentor and turned toward the village beneath him. He was greatly enamoured with the sight of it from a tall place, whereupon he could lose himself in self-indulgence. “I don’t actually want them fired, I just don’t think they’re as lazy as they seem.” He said this, locking his fingers behind his head and grimacing at the Hokage’s smiling eyes.

The governmental business had been made both church and hearth to the young man, and his devotion was solemn. So much, in fact, that he hardly slept or stepped outside or changed his clothes. A condition which showed unavoidably, so that he occasionally was taken to the hose for a cleansing ritual as it was called.

“Hum. Let’s say that they are; where would you go looking for their replacements?” Hatake Kakashi craned his neck and stood on tip-toes. He was gazing out across the expanse where his student’s interest so passionately intermingled with the village’s vision, and he longed to feel what he felt.

“With the twenty-year-old political science grads.”

“Great. And where are they?”

“. . .Fine! Twenty-five!” Blushing, the young man hunched his shoulders.

“In this line of work—reputation is gold. It’s no coincidence both of us are what the villagers affectionately term ‘war heroes.’”

“That’s stupid, ya know.”

“I agree with you. I detest politics—which is why I’m so good at it. In Konoha, we have faith in one another. But make no mistake, it is a military operation. Konoha is subject to the Land of Fire in times of peace while the Land of Fire is subject to Konoha during times of war. As such, there is no true King. All we have to hope for is the fabled tomorrow, as you know. Are you—familiar with the expression: ‘keep your enemies closer’ and all that?”

“Are you saying it’s us against the world, Kakashi-sensei?” Mentor and student met in an imagination of satire, and resisted it with flexing jaws.

“Hm! Sort of,” insisted the Hokage. “There’s an advantage not to be ignored in knowing the people around you. As the world is made up of and by people, understanding this ‘us’ in relation to ‘them’ bolts to the hand that governs. Realize—" he smiled “—that a person’s flaws don’t invalidate their usefulness.”

“I wasn’t suggesting—!" Scarlet in an instant, the trainee seemingly bucked the fantasy of the village in favour of gaping at his better. He was shaking and treading his feet.

“Oh, you were. But I forgive you; you’re young, after all.”

“I—!”

“If you didn’t have anything to learn from me, what use would I be of to you? I’m glad to have such a good reason for us spending time together.” Kakashi’s hand settled on his student’s shoulder. Outwardly, the Hokage was smiling under his mask and projecting with all his power the same calm which he’d soothed his student with since Naruto had come to associate it with him. Inly, however. . .

He was deeply disturbed. His student had not been the same since the war was won. There was a doubtfulness growing in him in time with his faculties, and this was in particular troubling to see in an heir to power. Kakashi’s apprentice was frightfully distrustful.

For all the good it did him, Hatake Kakashi wished to fix this problem. He was there to assure him for most hours of the day, but there was still a burning doubt alive that the youth would not let out. He would shut his mouth and stare at times; stare intently at Kakashi as if the issue was killing him to be thus muted. But he wouldn’t speak. The spell would pass and Kakashi knew not to pry.

How the Hokage suffered over this conundrum cannot be overstated. He remained ever aware that the zealous boy he’d adored was quite possibly destroyed; furthermore, that his restless ghost was inheriting an army.

*

 

Some hours had passed, and the wayward trainee stood on a rooftop. It was dark out, and the cold wind upset the snow so that it set off in glittering curlicues off the arches of the buildings. Through the mist of his breath the trainee had his eye fixed on the single other lunatic out in the middle of the night, climbing houses. The trainee didn’t think to pull his coat and scarf closer about himself, for he was much too preoccupied.

That figure stood on the opposing roof, on his toes, but with the snow circling him like tulle, his wariness turned out altogether unperceived by the trainee who saw only bridal veils flying in the air. The tiles clicked under the figure’s foot when the trainee moved. They had been here for going on two hours.

There existed hardly any ideas to either of them, but some a small thing remained, that being this connection they shared. It is why they would stand around so strangely.

The trainee would go unthinkingly, not knowing where to, and he would find this person in the outskirts of town. He would sneak up on him, stare at him, follow once that he was discovered and the other saw to flee. Always looking over his shoulder or walking backwards, the ignus fatuus would now and then beckon with sudden celerity and lead the chase a thousandth time—before coming to a halt.

It was rare that the trainee managed to approach, but this night was such a happy occasion.

They stopped before an arbor. Rising up, the trainee recovered his full height and faced the figure. He spoke his name.

“Sasuke. “Black eyes flickered. “How—did we get here?” The figure referred to as Sasuke lacked enough sense to make any reply. As he was not addressed again he was soon retreating. The trainee stooped and squeezed a sudden pain in his ankle. He questioned himself. Why wasn’t he at home this late at night? Before he had a chance to properly examine this question however, there was an ineffable pull on his mind which sent him stumbling in the direction the fresh foot prints were pointing.

*

At the same time, under the north-western sands of the wind country: there was a narrow hallway made of sandstone, decorated with elaborate carvings that depicted some images of fiery bright gods in the sky and a people reaping rye beneath. There were apertures in the walls spaced at an even two meters between, a few of them housing statuettes, the rest emptiness. Pottery lay shattered underfoot, and dust rose as it was stirred by the intruders’ passage. Nary a light source here shone, and the shadows fled the coming torch.

This place was an underground network of mausoleums, accessible only via the labyrinthine architecture of a sunken city, far underneath the scolding desert sands. The rooms and antechambers held many a secret and were stocked with traps awaiting trespassers. Poison gas, trap doors, trip wires and swinging, massive scythes were but a handful of the inconveniences awarded one’s trouble—and our brave explorers had already done away with more than a few of them.

It was to be expected. They knew the place was deadly (hence the rumored curse!) but the reward hidden there was worth the risk. The regal tombs which served as final resting place for the ruling families of the ancient civilization held treasure—more importantly, they held the Hyperbolic Paraboloid! studded with jewels!

“According to the map what we’re looking for is in something called the Pegasus sepulcher.” The young man walking before his companion held a large parchment map in front of himself. It was hand-drawn from testimony, and currently undergoing meticulous scanning. A low murmur floated from the man’s lips, his focus was so acute he did not notice at all. How to decrypt the crypts that he crept through—whereto next?

He put his index finger to his chin as he walked and the map rustled.

Behind him followed closely a slightly taller man, holding aloft the torch and clutching it with both hands so that his knuckles whitened. His body language conveyed an obvious fright; he was picking up his feet too high; his head, whipping to and fro, searched for something in the dark crevices about.

“Hey~ Sasuke—" A deep, raspy voice spoke behind the map-carrier. It had a nervous tilt to it, and wavered just short of a whisper.

“Hmm?” absently replied Sasuke.

“—who was it you said was buried here again? It wasn’t like—some crazed militant or clan leader or evil warlock—not anything like that, was it? Right? It would probably be alright if it was some cute, old grandma or like an ancient pack of kittens but knowing the kinda crowds you hang out with. . .Hey, are you listening to me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah? What did I just say?”

“Huh.”

“Yer such a jerk.”

“What?” They stopped walking, and Sasuke turned a surprised face toward his follower. Large, black eyes stared, all wonder, whilst dark bangs curved along his pirouette. This man was an extraordinary beauty. So, via the light of the flickering fire held in his hand, the owner of a tanned and very much displeasured face was made audience to his friend’s ridiculous advantage, and his brows sank further.

“I said—" he piped up “—this place is giving me the heebie jeebies! Can we please hurry up and get out of here before—the floor collapses or I lose my mind?”

“Hn,” Sasuke smirked at his companion. It was too obvious he was scared of the dark. “Why?” he teased. “You think the ghosts are going to get you?”

“Gek!” A shiver passed visibly across the whole length of the light-bringer. His shoulders jumped to his ears and an awful grimace graced his features. “No!” he defied. “Who would be!?”

“Not you, right?”

“Not me! That’s right! I’m the man who’s becoming the Hokage, ya know! I fear nothing!” A rough hand widely swept across the air, the owner of which striking a gutsy pose. Sasuke scoffed and put a hand on his hip.

“Uh-huh—" he said flippantly “—well then, my fearless friend, why don’t you—Oh! _My God_! What is that thing!” Pointing to something behind his friend’s back and feigning terror, Sasuke barely contained his laughter as the other’s face turned absolutely blue and began shrieking. The man spun around and was flailing both arms, torch and all, in a blind panic.

“WHO IS IT!?” he screamed. “I’LL PUT MY FOOT THROUGH YER FACE IF YOU MESS WITH ME!”

“Jeez! Naruto!” Sasuke couldn’t help it. The wild spectacle made him laugh uncontrollably, and he tottered over to put his hands on his friend’s shoulders, urging him to be still. “Stop!” he called. “Stop!” Naruto’s entire chest heaved and his breath wheezed out of him, each hair on end.

“God damnit, bakasuke!” he shouted, turning around and waving his fist in a pale, grinning face. “You prick! You sadistic shit!”

“Pshaw! come on! You’re alright.” Dimples faded and black eyes sparkled.

“ _Go—d_!” A bronzed hand ran through bright hair. Naruto looked deftly around. “I’m about to shit myself in here, seriously.”

“Well, don’t do that; think of the mess. We’ll be done before long.”

“Not nearly soon enough, ya know!”

“The sooner you quit complaining and hold that light straight so I can read properly, the sooner we can leave. How’s that?” The blonde grumbled in reply, saying:

“I’m not afraid of some stupid ghosts—as if. Yur the one who’s scared cuz yur always scared. Scared of everything; scared of new food; scared of being too cold; scared of dogs; strangers; girls; spiders; of stuff that’s underwater for some reason.”

“Don’t!" The raven-haired man barked suddenly, whipping around and raising a peremptory finger. His eyes were flashing red as he pointed in the other’s face, and for a second during which Naruto started giggling, Sasuke looked as if he was going to hit him. He took a deep breath instead and informed his friend in his most charming voice that ‘it’s creepy.’ He slowly turned around anew, resuming his perusal of the treasure map.

Naruto snickered happily. Torturing his unnaturally fearless companion was a seldom delight that he was all about. “Hey, you know—what if there’s like these water-trap-things around here, huh? Like—if you were to trip one, all this water would come rushing in and the place would get flooded! Wouldn’t that be neat? Huh? Don’t you think it would be _neat_ —if that happened? With the water—everything’s all submerged and dark—"

“Look!” Sasuke shouted and briskly faced Naruto. “I know what you’re trying to do and I’ll save you the air in your lungs; it’s not going to work,” he insisted.

“Tch!”

“Anyway—if anyone were to spring that trap it wouldn’t be me.”

“What’s that? It would be me then, you mean?”

“I didn’t say that.” Sasuke resumed following his map with an air of disinterest.

“Oh, la dee da! Didn’t have to, ya know? Cuz I’m a buffalo, right? And you’re just perfect as usual, you man-woman!”

“Hn! You wish you looked this good.”

“What! Are you kidding me! Have you seen this!” Naruto was outraged to have his sexiness questioned, therefore he felt it necessary to flex; to drag his hands down his body; to purse his lips and run (somehow) in slow-motion, fuming all the time.

“Shh! Keep it down, idiot! You’ll wake the dead!” Sasuke’s ears were ringing with the sound of his friend’s high-pitched outcry.

“You keep it down!” Though his objection may have been strong, the blonde nonetheless simmered down in a hurry, and crossing his arms he looked worriedly around, frustration still tainting his mien.

“Watch your step,” Sasuke commanded along the way.

“I know! I know! You don’t have to boss me around!” Naruto stomped his feet down with a purpose where he followed, arms still crossed and shoulders high.

“Hmm. . .” The two came to a halt and Sasuke held up the map, unthinkingly following the illumination which wavered with Naruto’s every movement. Sasuke sank into concentration.

Meanwhile, Naruto fiddled with a scaling mural, grimacing behind his companion and causing that torch he held to shift hither and tither in the air.

“I don’t get it,” mumbled Sasuke. “The entranceway is supposed to be here.” He tried turning the map upside-down but fared no better in reading it.

Paint peeled and fell off where the blonde terror picked at the wall.

“Maybe it’s—not five steps but fifty or—is it not northwest but—northeast? No, that’s crazy.”

Naruto discovered a space behind the wall which looking through a crack revealed. He squinted and lent in to better see while Sasuke’s back was turned. He put one hand on the wall to support his weight.

“Hmmm?” he murmured, sounding of skin-deep valiance.

Sasuke at the same time groaned and waved his arms a moment, looking high and low for his treasure that wouldn’t appear. “Come on!” he cried. “I hate this—so much! I can’t—" He was tearing at the wall of fallen boulders in front of himself and sure enough, perspiration stood out on his forehead as he broke out in a cold sweat. Had Naruto been watching him, he’d have come over and started patting his back by now.

“Ah?” But Naruto faced the suddenly crumbling mural. It was quickly collapsing its entire meters high composition under his hand, cracking so loudly it elicited a frightened gasp from Sasuke who turned to see what was happening. Just as he did, he saw his companion face planted inside of an immured tomb, dust rising around him, before immediately that same curious companion was being pushed out again as the thousand-year-old mummy came rushing to embrace him. It fell straight forward soon as Naruto had replaced the mural that it had been leaning on, and this unfortunate effect caused him to sound a piercing scream. His limbs were nearly detaching from frightened momentum as he fell, before becoming firmly lodged under the ancient corpse, thudding to the floor and returning the mummy’s deathly kiss.

Sasuke didn’t know how to feel. He frowned, very concerned rather for Naruto’s sense of self-preservation than his sanity, and he tried not to laugh at him until he knew the idiot hadn’t passed out.

Naruto, horrified, pushed the awful thing off of himself by way of setting his foot to the stomach and kicking it over his head. The mummy hit the wall with a crunch and a leathery whisper. The blonde heaved himself up on all four and wiped hard at his mouth—brokenhearted, to be sure. He gagged and dry heaved a couple of times as Sasuke walked over and waited for him to finish.

“There, there,” he said, rubbing his back. Naruto slapped him away and shuffled his hands about to direct his gagging further to privacy. 

“Now, you’re going to hurt his feelings like that. That’s your problem. You’re too rough with your lovers.” Sasuke was nearly crying with containing his laughter when Naruto looked up at him, retching and trying to properly pronounce his disallowance.

“Fuck—off,” he settled on.

“Ha! I’ve never seen you get along so well with anyone is all I’m saying!” He decided to applaud the occasion. “Pretty hot.” Naruto regurgitated loudly and a string of phlegm connected his mouth to the ground. “Why don’t you marry the mummy since you like it so much?” These words drew a reaction of such disgusted fury from the puking man on the floor that he roared and made swinging grabs at Sasuke’s feet. He cursed vehemently at the raven who finally laughed aloud, nimbly escaping again and anew.

“C’mere!” screamed the blonde.

“Oh! Right!” Naruto’s hand brushed barely an ankle, and Sasuke seemed in control since he dexterously hopped and evaded the other—but that was until the blonde molded senjuu chakra in his feet and pounced.

“Oof!” Catching Uchiha with one arm around the waist, his exaggerated tackle felled them both and caused thick dust clouds to flee. Naruto scrambled to straddle him, and once in spot, he held both white hands stuck to the ground. Sasuke’s eyes widened in surprise and he looked up—knowing what was coming.

“Oh! God!” Struggling, kicking his feet and whipping his head from side to side as Naruto, devoid of mercy, was all vengeful ambition; Sasuke stared with horror as his supposed friend lowered one solid glob of spit and gunk via his mouth towards his face. To try and not laugh was challenge enough, but he focused all his mettle in dedication. “EW! NARUTO! STOP!” It was getting increasingly difficult however. “I WILL KI—I SWEAR TO GOD—YOU’RE DEAD IF—” Uchiha thought that he could see his brother’s shadow looming over him: paradise sure to come.

Shockingly, there was a blast; a white flash along with blue bifurcations blinked in the air not a second before every muscle in Uzumaki’s body cramped up, and not another second passed before causing his slumping over, the spit landing with a splat on Sasuke’s cheek.

“Jeez!” There was a scent of something burning on their clothes. The raven wiped his face on his smoking and yet somehow recuperating companion’s jacket, scowling fiercely.

“Aw what—don’t wipe that shit on me!” he complained.

“You shut up! Pig.”

“Hey, come on—" Sasuke awarded him a condescending look. “—I’m funny.” He did look funny, grinning and sooty on the floor, Uchiha thought.

The sound of a loud slap echoed in the hall.


	3. The Saddle

It had been dumb luck which led Naruto to that brittle tomb in the wall, and it was even dumber of Sasuke deciding not to inform his faithful (if fumbling) friend of his not originally meaning to enter it, instead pretending, and patting that muscular back, saying: “Good!” and going in. He was out of options, the reader understands, and the freshly unearthed grave was his one remaining clew. The Saddle must be through there!

The small room was such indeed, and it smelled of foul air which urged Sasuke to wave his hand before his face, grimacing as dust settled atop his shoulders and head. Naruto followed closely behind, holding Uchiha’s dark cape.

“Don’t stand so close, idiot. I can’t think if I can feel your heat on my back,” the preceding man growled and ran his fingers over the walls, bettering his gauge of the surroundings in this manner.

“It’s not that I’m close but this place is cramped, ya know?” Naruto was shuffling his feet to fit in the seriously tiny room. It was only big enough to fit the two of them and the upright stone coffin.

“Just back up a little bit!”

“I can’t! There’s no room!”

“Wh—just go back where you came from!”

“As I said! There’s—no—room!”

“What! Are you saying that a door appeared and locked us in of a sudden!”

“No~ I’m saying my back’s against the wall, genius!”

“Why would you squeeze your way in here if you couldn’t get back out again!”

“Because it’s scary out there, okay! It’s less scary with you!”

“Stop pushing!”

“I’m not!”

“Just—get your foot and—"

“Fucking _what_!”

“Where are you touching!” “Where are you touching!” Both men erupted in unison, and they blushed with insult and argued only louder—until Naruto felt the stone underfoot give way. His face fell. Sasuke knew that look; all color drained from his own make.

“Uh-oh?”

“ _Crap_.” The floor broke apart completely and revealed a gaping black hole underneath; a thing which with its vacuity swallowed them both instantly. Falling, their screams were unceasing. Naruto held onto Sasuke’s cape, and Sasuke held onto Naruto’s. In the midst of their abominable drop they looked at each other, and with no end in sight to this perilous journey, the blonde shrugged his shoulders and the raven sparked with lightning. The descent rang with their voices like a belfry.

Approaching the bottom at last, it was descried how there glinted at their final end a hundred spear heads pointing up at them.

“Look what you did!” cried Sasuke.

“Damnit!” Naruto bit his thumb, blood spatter forming a helix in the current. He readied a summoning technique at the rushing spears. But Sasuke clicked his tongue: he had a better idea.

Clamping his legs around his companion’s midriff, he pulled out a bow and fired a shrieking arrow at a notch in the oppressing wall. It stuck; bits of stone flew off to give way. Attached to that arrow was a rope, and to that rope held firmly he himself even while keeping his stumped friend, who cried out for lack of control, in a firm grip.

They swung, and Uzumaki broke their impact by catching hold with his hands.

“Woah!” he whistled, impressed with the rare display of acrobatics and looking up at Sasuke. “Nifty!” added he with a grin. “’Glad to see yer still in shape, old man!”

“I will kick you in the face, you know.” But Naruto only laughed at the remark and beamed with pride.

His own point hadn’t been totally off the target, let it be known. Both he and Sasuke had recently come to experience some unforeseen setback included in the process of their particular maturation—or so they had assumed: this meaning that their chakra control had become impeded. It had become more difficult to mold chakra, to summon enough of it and convert it to the correct form. Pinpoint accuracy had become less so. The theory that Sasuke held to was that the souls of Indra and Asura were somehow interfering with their own, thereby obstructing the host bodies’ chakra channeling. He had become obsessed with resolving the issue, and this was the very reason he and Naruto had come to the buried city, because he’d caught wind of the Hyperbolic Paraboloid being buried there, and was convinced it held the answers he sought.

“Where’d you even get the bow?” wondered Naruto while he carefully made his way down the wall. Sasuke sat plastered to his back, arms around the blonde’s neck and legs around his waist. He refused to answer him. “Pulled it out of yur ass, huh? I knew it.”

“Tch!” Sasuke grabbed awkwardly at Naruto’s clothing, not eager to fall and none so to strangle him either.

“Stop moving! Stick around,” Naruto said and chuckled at his own stupid pun (thinking himself very clever) to Sasuke’s dismay.

“Ha?” He didn’t like the sound of sticking around one bit. In fact, he couldn’t wait to dislodge himself. Not sitting right on Naruto didn’t sit right with him; certainly not having his package squashed by the moron’s back. “What’re you—no! Let me get off!” Since Naruto had already begun his climbing descent, Uchiha felt it unwise to try and fight him right this second, considering the sharpened metal pieces still directed at their potential slip.

“Stop fidgeting! What’s your problem?” Naruto’s foot so slipped. “Shit!” With a startled cry anew erupting from them both, they fell, and Uzumaki grit his teeth and took a hold of the other man. He turned in the air so that Sasuke was on top of him while his own back faced downward.

They took to the ground heavily. Landing in a bruised-up pile on the doorway leading out of the speared chasm, they rolled some ways, with dirty water cresting the shadows of where their limbs had been before slowing to a stop. It was a miracle they’d not been impaled.

Both men groaned with pain, wiggling about as dust flew. They spat with disgust.

“Oh! My god!” whined Naruto, rubbing his head with the one hand and for examinational purposes tested his elbow joint by extending and retracting the other arm. It sounded a distinct ‘clack’ at the initial bending, but this was an old injury.

“I knew I shouldn’t have gotten up this morning.”

“Yer so fat, Sasuke!” The blonde bemoaned his heroic fate and rolled about in the grime.

“Don’t—fling me around however you want! It’s seriously enough!” Uchiha’s cursed. He climbed off of the other man, setting his knee in Naruto’s gut, and making him choke. “Now, come on, you lay-about. I thought you wanted to get out of here?” Moaning, the blonde stood and stumbled after the other, who swatted at his clothes as he looked carefully about.

They had entered a far-winding corridor of uneven masonry, the floor both dipping and rising with the likewise waving walls. At the very end, a light like a match—the exit.

“Sasuke. . .” Uzumaki called quietly on his friend’s attention. His fellow traveler understood and so he nodded. Neither of the two felt comfortable with their current predicament. They watched their feet.

“Don’t touch me.” Uchiha was picking up his knees, holding onto his cape to better see about himself. Naruto scowled.

“I wasn’t!” he snapped.

“I know that. I’m just telling you before you do.”

“I wasn’t planning on touching you! Jeez!”

“Well, you never know.”

“Because I’m constantly just all over you, right?” Sasuke, walking frontmost, smiled at this comment. He did enjoy Naruto’s company, though he often felt hopelessly embarrassed with himself, trying damned hard to be a good friend despite his effort not showing through. It was a fact that in this moment, even though all was wagered against them, he felt happy. Happiness! because he wasn’t doing this alone. There were terribly annoyed, childish remarks fired at him every two seconds; that ever soothed his until only recently constant feeling of desperation, and made him feel much better. Let it be known, he wouldn’t have anybody else there to be soothed by. Sometimes, Sasuke worried that Naruto didn’t feel appreciated. He wanted to assure him how he was; incidentally, this added to Sasuke’s fear of rejection and annoyed him more than anything.

“Just don’t step on any of the—"

“I—won’t step on the _buttons_ , bakasuke! Oh! My god!”

“ _Oh! My gawd!_ ” The raven mocked in a high voice.

“PSHAW!” Naruto sounded an offended noise which earned him Sasuke’s smile. “Yer one to talk. Wouldn’t you like—get excited if I actually sounded like that? You like ‘em dumb.”

“Oh? I do.” Naruto glared at the back of Sasuke’s head.

“Hum,” he scoffed. “Good to know. Anyway—what’s this saddle thing we’re looking for?”

“Changing the subject so soon? And here I was, hoping to know your own weakness; my one chance, come and gone.”

“That’s a funny joke by a funny guy right there.”

“Come on, you can tell me.” The sarcasm uttered all but stuck to Naruto’s skin and his frown deepened.

“Seriously,” he growled. Uchiha snorted, capitulating even so.

The topic of bed-sharing was a touchy one, but Sasuke was certainly curious. He wished to talk about it. Knowing that he’d upset his friend for the cause on the other hand made him coil up tight, and so with placation in mind he spat:

“The hyperbolic paraboloid is a book. It was written by some guy five hundred years ago and then buried with his mistress; supposedly, one of the princesses enshrined here.”

“What—was it like some love letter type of deal?”

“Hn. No. It’s a work depicting important mathematical findings. The guy was probably just twitchy and didn’t want a competitor to find it.”

“ _Math_? Who’d want to read about that stuff! You’d have to be the most boring person alive! Suppose that’s why you want it, right?” Uchiha could well discern the wide grin by his friend’s delighted tone. He sighed.

“It’s not boring; it’s important! It’s like—seeing the world draw breath—or something.”

“With an attitude like that, you’d think that you’d be better at it. Eh, Mr. I hate fractals—fuck zero—it’s a bullshit number?”

“Someone who can barely read their own language shouldn’t have any complaints!” The moment Sasuke rose three octaves in pitch to so deliver this crucial import a sound was heard, a sound of some heavy thing coming loose. Uzumaki’s attention shot to his companion’s foot and that of its precarious landing. He shook his head in disbelief while Sasuke himself could not believe it was he, not Naruto, who had activated the trap. The corridor was clamoring with the noise of what soon appeared to be fast approaching—a giant boulder.

“How!” The blonde cried in utter bewilderment as to the knowhow required to engineer such a contraption; it was brilliant! but now was not the time for admiration! He grabbed Sasuke’s arm and ran back towards the spear-room.

“There’s nowhere to go over there!” shouted Uchiha.

“I know that!”

“Where are we going then!”

“Just let me think! It’ll be fine!” The boulder was much faster than they; soon it licked at their heels.

“What part about this situation seems fine to you!”

“RASENGAN!” Naruto, without so much as slowing down, had managed to form in his hand a rapidly rotating ball of dense chakra, his signature move—the rasengan. He extended his arm, azure light being cast, contouring the rocks, the nooks, the two persons’ features so that they stained brightly in the dark like color was jumping and splashing what pointed ends presented, all in a dazzling light show lasting an instant. Sharply turning, Naruto crashed straight through the massive wall at his side and bulled ahead.

Delivered, though gravel flew and cut at his face, Sasuke felt the surge of wind that pulled on him as the boulder roared by, and in the midst of this he thanked his lucky star for the monstrous strength which pulled so resolutely on his arm and secured his life.

“Wait! But we don’t know what’s behi—! "They found themselves falling another steep way into wide arrangements, and Sasuke couldn’t decide anymore whether he felt so much rescued as he felt needlessly agitated before his death.

Landing in stinking water, they sank some way from the velocity of their coming before with firm strokes they arose, gasping and taking strong breaths.

“Dick!” Sasuke snapped, splashing water at the other.

“Hate me later, bastard.” And pulling on the cloth of his friend’s shoulder, the blonde dragged him into a start, so that they both climbed out the water and were running on top of it before that Sasuke had had a chance to look behind himself. Crocodiles followed.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Crocodiles wearing ancient Sunagakure head cloths sped towards them, snapping their jaws at sprinting feet.

“What are they still doing here!”

“They must’ve been abandoned when the civilization perished! Awesome!”

“ _Awesome_!” Naruto would’ve described the animals’ presence by a different word.

“That means they really must’ve all died at once—like the legend says! There’s a good chance there really was some type of disaster that killed them all!”

“You have an odd way of getting excited about non-exciting stuff! I’m not getting eaten by a crocodile wearing a funny hat, ya know! Tajuu: Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!” A hundred Naruto’s poofed into existence; hellacious yelling erupted from them all as ensued the singularly most jaw-dropping fight ever fought. A centuplicate ratio of one on one crocodile-versus-man-brawl exploded on the water, steaming the surface as Narutos tossed beasts by fang in hand, and still others were blood choking the hell out of the monsters. The bunshin stood some upright and in X-formation, levering open the massive maws, roaring, and the creature looking left and right, sniffing defeat.

“U-zu-ma-ki! Naruto rendan!” It was a blood bath.

“That’s enough! Let’s go!” Sasuke called, snagging Naruto’s collar, choking him with the urge to keep running. From the impact of the rasengan, the whole complex now rumbled and complained with damage. Sand and stone were falling from the high walls.

Naruto and Sasuke ran, and thus entered into a new series of halls made of paler stone and more delicate brickwork; symbols gradually appeared engraved on the walls they passed. Footfalls echoed, and Sasuke saw something written that he knew. His eyes widened.

“A pinioned horse!” He slid to a stop. “Naruto!” The blonde almost fell, stopping to look at him. His face communicated severe impatience. “We have to go through here.”

“I’m not gonna say it.” Naruto stomped closer. “Where?” The world around them was howling.

“Straight through.” Uchiha didn’t have time to close his mouth before it was sprayed with fine dust and sand as Naruto put another rasengan through the masonry, completely blowing the wall apart. Sasuke dove inside, spitting.

The room was a grave chamber, just as he’d expected, and it contained trinkets high and low, cobwebbed and thick with time. Coffins stood about, some plundered, but there. . .!

“Ah!” A tiny coffin, broken and fallen in some tumult not recent in history, beckoned him. He threw himself to his knees over it and watched to stay clear of the falling stone lid. Preserved inside lay a small mummy, with hands and feet bound, and a manuscript scattered over their dress. He gathered the pages hurriedly and rolled them up, sticking them inside of his vest. The collapsing voice raced down the hallways as if in search of the two intruders, and a chill fled up Sasuke’s spine.

“Let’s go!” he said. Naruto shot a troubled glance at the tiny casket before looking at his friend. Nodding with a strange expression, he confirmed:

“Yeah.”

The explorers ran afresh through winding ways, sand beginning to touch their knees so that therefore they leapt; Naruto would always trust Sasuke with his life, besides having no idea where they were running to and knowing full well that they were deep under earth; he followed him because it was his long-since choice to do so.

“It’s this way!” Uchiha called, speeding towards what looked to be just another tunnel. Naruto heeded that voice calling, faithfully.

The tunnel narrowed to a crevice ahead, chilled with hoarfrost that reached in like something otherworldly, glittering. Sasuke hopped, mid-stride, and cleared the crevice by raising an arm and twisting his body, torqueing horizontally so that he passed through without a sound but his cape brushing the stone. To land, he lost not a second for the use of flipping 180 degrees. To control his momentum (as to not be too quick) he extended his leg like when readying a windmill kick, only that he landed perfectly to the ground. Sasuke was elegance itself; he shot across the frosted floor.

But Uzumaki was not one to be bested! In a display associated with might before beauty, he too, knew well how to drive with the arms; he twisted through the opening like an arrow fired, grabbing ahold of the edges as he passed and propelling himself faster forward. He rolled fluidly and ended up ahead of Sasuke. Naruto grinned proudly at him. Everything is a competition with the right attitude, after all. Uchiha clicked his tongue.

They were running in an expansive space, a cave, it would appear, silvered with snow and sparkling ice. The walls of the place were hidden in darkness for the distance to them was great. Above, there shone the light of day through an opening, but it was far off.

The blonde was overtaken by his friend, and he followed him to that illumined beam which was blaring down on white snow, haloing crystal flakes floating in the air. But although the place was certainly beautiful, Naruto saw that it offered no way out if they did not fly.

“Sasuke!” he called, looking at him with concern. But just as he did, the raven took his hand, and Naruto stared as the ceiling began to break apart, widening the opening in it. Sasuke’s face was hard; he looked as if straining immensely. Sweat raced down his cheek while large boulders landed around him and his friend, whipping their coats violently. Nothing was happening. Sasuke’s chakra would not obey him so he audibly exerted himself.

Naruto, twitching at the falling rocks sure to hit them both eventually, looked to his friend, understanding their predicament. He couldn’t fly either. If he didn’t manage somehow in shielding the two of them, they would be crushed. He felt his chakra roll in his gut like a bad meal and cursed.

The ground was cracking, sand spilling out and swelling over the snow and their feet; the place roared so that when Sasuke called, he did so over the tumult. His eyes were open, red, shining with power as Susanoo erupted, sprouting wings.

“Grab on properly!” Tangling up together, Uchiha’s vestigial form slung them upward with staggering strength, fanning large wings so that debris altered its course. The light was gaining and growing, and both men squinted their eyes. Susanoo’s sword clove upward and divided a sheath of falling ice. After dodging and rolling from ice blocks, rivers of sand threatening to drown them, finally, they broke through the surface!

The world was blinding to their shade-accustomed eyes, and the desert awaited their ultimate descent as they soared through the air.

Just then, Sasuke felt a sharp pain behind his eyes, his broken concentration thereby causing Susanoo to fade. He clamped his jaw shut in reaction to the discomfort. With his hands squeezing his head, he and Naruto fell. The large, yellow ground was closing in and . . .!

“Ahg!” “Gh!” They landed one right next to the other. Sand billowed from underneath their settling bodies; the sun burned wet cloth covered backs already.

Naruto was stuck with his head in a dune. This was made obvious by the sound of his muffled complaints and his legs, kicking wildly. His hands trampled the sand around his trapped crownpiece before with a firm tug he pulled himself free. Gasping, he tipped backwards, losing his balance. He spat sand miserably a while and tried to pick his mouth clean. Then he sat.

“Sasuke?” he said. Noticing his friend yet on the ground, his heart leapt with fear. He scrambled so that he fell on his face. “Sa— blf!” Undeterred, he ran to Sasuke’s side and ripped his hands from his face to look at him. “Sasuke! Look at me! Are you okay! Hey!”

“Jeez!” Surprised to be tackled to the ground the very second he’d decided to try and rise surely did the trick to derange the stern Uchiha, and he therefore stared at the man who lent over him, holding his hand forgotten in his own, and with his other hand to Sasuke’s cheek like that type of behavior was typical between them.

“Sasuke!” He really must look terrible, Uchiha reasoned, to be so fussed about. Naruto looked none too hot himself, covered in sand, dirt and sweat, shaking with shot muscles and worry for Sasuke’s sake. That hand on his cheek would be the death of him.

“I’m fine, idiot, get a hold of yourself.” Halfheartedly, Sasuke slapped Naruto’s gripping reach away. He sat up.

“Ah! That’s such a relief, ya know!” The blonde positively deflated, holding his knees and drooping forward. “Don’t scare me like that! I thought I was going to have to carry you out of here! You’ve gotten so pudgy; I really didn’t want to.” Sasuke nearly swallowed his tongue.

“What?” he hissed, leaning very close and with all the muscles in his neck protruding.

“Well, I mean, yer still cute and all but yer no feather like you were, ya know what I mean?” Naruto was messing around, thinking himself quite the comedian as evinced by his dumb grinning. Really—he was just so happy they both were alive.

Sharingan mercilessly appeared; Naruto donned an affectionate expression.

“I’m kidding,” he said. “Just kidding. You know, for a minute—I thought we weren’t going to make it out of there.”

“Yeah— “Sasuke’s eyes faded back to normal “—me too. For a second.”

“You really pulled through—as expected!” Laughing, Naruto shoved at the other’s shoulder, stirring the laughter out of him in turn, though Sasuke’s head still had a pulse. He felt as if his eyes were bulging out of his head. “Hey,” Naruto said awkwardly. “Good job and—thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Sasuke’s breath caught with emotion and he looked down to hide it. His friend was laughing again, euphoric after nearly having been killed, and he pushed Sasuke over in the sand.

“Hey!” Protests withal, he was pushed over a second time and nearly swallowed a mouthful of sand; the blonde cackled loudly.


	4. Sasuke's lust, and what he chooses to do with it

Naruto and Sasuke had enjoyed each other as traveling companions going on three years. They had seen spectacular things together, had journeyed far, faced a hundred dangers and prevailed to face more. In crossing both frozen wastes as well as ramshackle bridges Sasuke had scolded many times his friend whom, with a guiltless guffaw, continued to rock the surface they walked on.

For food, they either hunted or bought their fare from traveling merchants; sometimes they stopped at civilian villages when they were particularly tired of seeing only nature and talking only to each other. When making money, they needed not look ever farther than those same multitudinous villages for work; Naruto and Sasuke made perfectly effective guards for the inhabitants. Needless to say, the pair did not like to be recognized and therefore stayed clear of other shinobi.

It was the evening of the same day the two had recovered the Hyperbolic Paraboloid. Naruto and Sasuke were in the Land of Rivers, revisiting a tavern they’d last come to over a year before. They were sharing a table among other patrons but sat alone, with drinks and the bound manuscript between them. The serving area was located on a wooden veranda, and overhead hung lanterns attracting mosquitoes and head-butting moths. Sasuke had been glued to the book’s pages for some hours already, and while his frustration with the contents grew, so did Naruto’s foreseeing satisfaction.

“So,” he drawled. “Have you cured yourself yet?”

“No,” answered Sasuke without looking up from the papers.

“Are you stuck? You haven’t turned the page in a while.”

“I can’t read when you’re talking to me.”

“Can I help you with anything?”

“You could be quiet.” Naruto sat back in his seat. He drank deeply from his ninja-beer. Making company amongst the two visitors were a fraction of the village’s working class; twenty men and women, ranging from the young to the old, paid little mind to them; villages fortunate enough to have a roadside tavern were wise to not bother clientele with curiosity. That isn’t to say, of course, that the youths of the tavern kept from throwing furtive longing glances on dusty boots and stuffed backpacks—or on Sasuke’s profile. Naruto, noticing this, began wiggling in his seat and kicked his friend’s foot. This made Sasuke start and grab hold of his glass. He stared mutely a second at his companion.

“What?” he then pressed.

“Yer boring.”

“It’s not my job to entertain you. Go make friends if I’m so boring—and quit kicking me!” With this instruction he returned the offence in kind. Naruto saw that Sasuke was about to resume his work and disapproved. He kicked him again.

“You should drink more,” he advised. Sasuke’s hands lodged in his own hair and he was raking it backwards with an expression denoting barely withheld shouting.

“What is it? Why can’t you let me read in peace? Don’t tell me you’re lonely.”

“Hm-hm! I’m so lonely. No, it’s just—uh—don’t you think it’s good for now? I can see veins popping out of yur head, ya know.” Sasuke took a moment to look around himself at the other patrons before with slanted head he regarded his friend.

“This is important to me—” he began.

“I know! I’m just saying. . .”

“—I was hoping this book would tell me there’s a way to anticipate the pathology. If I had a formula, I could draw a map. With a map, I could understand what’s been happening to us and potentially fix it, too. But this book is describing mandelbrot and Julia sets; volume two is all geometry. Can you guess—what those sets define?”

“Is it a fractal?”

“No, infinite—god damned fractals. I can’t begin to tell you how difficult this stuff is. I know whatever this affliction is hasn’t gotten to you like it has to me; you’re not the one exploding in lightning at any given time.”

“Hey, I’m upset, alright? I used to be able to fucking levitate: you don’t think I miss it?” Naruto lowered his voice and leaned closer to his friend. “Look, to me, it’s not vitally important, yer right about that. I’m still helping you though, aren’t I? Or trying to.”

“And now you’re bugging me. So, let me work.” Sasuke was following the trail of a brilliant idea he’d had for a stupid reason. That idea was to himself define neurogenesis to such a degree that it precisely delineated the individual nervous system down to its minutest detail. Discovering such a formula would be very useful, but it was unlikely that he would be able to do it. As a true reductionist, Sasuke staggered before chaotic systems and sneered. Had he been more trusting in other people’s ability, he never would’ve thought to make a mathematician out of himself.

“Come on,” complained Naruto.

“What?”

“Quit it. Yer being a pain and you need to relax. Drink—" He pushed Sasuke’s glass toward him. Next, he picked the book up, closed it and reached for his fellow’s pack wherein he put it. “—Drink!” he said again. Sasuke reluctantly did as told. He was soft on his friend, after all; a thing which Naruto was not only aware of but happily exploited whenever the mood struck.

A while passed during which both friends considered what to say. Naruto took Sasuke’s silence for annoyance at having been interfered with and resented this. He practiced internally how to rebuff him. But this, surprisingly, wasn’t why Sasuke smoldered into the foam of his mug. He was actually going through the anguishes of blame, upset with himself for having endangered Naruto by taking him into the sunken city. It had been irresponsible, according to himself, not forcing the canine fool to stay in camp when he knew that Naruto would follow him off the side of a cliff if he didn’t actively prevent it. Furthermore, Sasuke wouldn’t have survived if Naruto hadn’t come with him. It was clear that Sasuke was putting both of their lives at risk by pursuing an old convenience only he could not let go. Naruto’s death would be a loss that Sasuke couldn’t hope to withstand. He shuddered.

“Listen— _yuck_!” exclaimed he, interrupting his own idea, and a look of bewildered disgust lowered on his face. Sasuke swished the ale about in his mug, and looked to Naruto for confirmation. The drink was vile. He’d not noticed before, having been too occupied with his brooding. This impressionability is important to highlight, because it demonstrates that while Sasuke considered himself a composed individual, he was actually so sensitive to disturbances that he even justified losing his temper at the drop of a hat.

“Shush! The barmaid’s looking.” Naruto, on the contrary, wouldn’t be easily disturbed, and considered his friend’s attitude insufferable as often as hilarious.

“I don’t care about her; my only interest’s you.” Naruto discreetly choked on his drink. “They shouldn’t serve stale ale if they don’t want to hear about it.” Sasuke lifted his mug upside down and emptied it into his mouth while his companion blushed at him, stupefied and clearing his throat. The young Uchiha then sighed, putting the vessel back on the table with a loud ‘clack.’ He was peering at Naruto. “So what if I’m a pain?” he suddenly erupted. “I know that according to you I’m obsessed, maybe I am, but it’s what I have to do. I don’t remember asking you to accommodate me anyhow, so you can’t ask me to do it for you.”

“Ah! There we have it—" Naruto scoffed “—And I was thinking you were gonna say something nice for a change, ya know. What? You feel trapped by me? Because I put yur book away after burying yur nose in it for three hours?”

“No, that’s not the point! I’m trying to say that I am who I am—”

“Sure! You’ve been living in the past for as long as I’ve known you.”

“—and I’m fine with your ridiculous disregard of it! You’re complacent and unrealistically optimistic, alright?”

“Seems like an oddly judgy thing to tell yur ‘only interest,’ isn’t it?” Naruto grumbled into his own mug and lent away from Sasuke.

“Just listen to me. Do I seem as if I don’t want you around? I won’t run away or leave you behind out of choice, there are just places where I can’t let you follow me—and it’s not because you’re weak!” Sasuke rolled his eyes.

“So that’s what yer on about! If I hadn’t been there today you would’ve been smooshed by that boulder, bakasuke!”

“Well—that’s debatable. . .”

“Oh, shove it! You like to boss me around and mostly I’m okay with it because I’m a nice person, ya know! But if you think I’m gonna let you order me to like knit a sweater while you go and off yourself you can forget it!” Naruto’s agitation brooked no argument. His friend was quite simply at an impasse made all the more apparent by the superfluous: “I am yur shadow.” Sasuke considered his position a while and felt saddened by the dilemma which controlled him.

“The book—" he said quietly “—wasn’t the most important thing delivered from that place.” Naruto stared, then he gawked.

“You were seriously shaken by today, weren’t you?” He was afraid to ask because the honest reply would demand a straightforwardness of him that he wasn’t yet mature enough to provide, so it menaced him to pose the question. Sasuke responded to the emotion of the inquiry and touched his elbows.

“Weren’t you?” he replied. This managed to hit the wall that Naruto had built around himself regarding his friend. He wouldn’t let out that a threat to Sasuke’s safety entailed the unraveling of his own sensibilities. He refused to admit that he wasn’t ‘over him’ like he’d said three years earlier.

“Nobody’s gonna die,” he instead proclaimed. “Definitely not.” Sasuke huffed at this and contended it.

“See, this is exactly what I mean! You keep expecting me to make up for your lack of judgement!”

“The hell I am! Yer paranoid; that’s what you don’t understand, ya know. You can’t spend yur life worrying about what ifs!”

“I swear, you can be such a blockhead.” Sasuke rubbed his face tiredly for a second. “People die, genius,” he said sternly, leaning toward his friend and reaching for his arms. “All I’m asking is that you recognize you are a person—and all the implications that brings.”

“What is it with you? We’re best equipped probably in the world to handle danger—” Naruto was pulling away, but Sasuke had a firm grip on him.

“—Not anymore,” he interrupted. He wore a little smile that was almost maniacal for its ill-placed amusement. “For all intents and purposes, we’re gymnasts.” Naruto shook his head and looked away. He curled his fingers tightly on the table. “But I’m working to change that,” added Sasuke, ceasing his smiling. He pulled harder on his friend until he looked at him again. “I don’t want to die.”

“Jesus, Sasuke!”

“Nor do I want you to! Honestly,—"

“If you pull on me anymore than this I’m gonna have to kiss you, ya know.” This didn’t will his friend to laugh, despite their proximity to one another and Naruto’s disarming wit. Sasuke was frowning at him, waiting for a more serious response. Cursing under his breath, Naruto answered the demand timidly and unwillingly. He set his hands to Sasuke’s shoulders and whispered in his face: “You don’t have to worry about me. Obviously, I’m fine.”

“You’re impossible.” Sasuke shot out of his seat and picked up his bag. He put his tab on the table and grimaced angrily. His friend followed suit and also stood up. “No, go ahead and sit—” said Sasuke “—unless you’ll want to shadow me in the outhouse!” Naruto also put his money on the table.

“I don’t care where you’re going; I’m going back to camp. So you can take a solo-dump and enjoy it as far as I’m concerned, ya know.” Elbowing each other, they stepped off of the veranda and out unto the dirt road. Sasuke shoved Naruto so hard that he stumbled away and nearly fell.

“I will!” he shouted at him. “Maybe you should go steal a bear cub or jump off a waterfall!”

“Oh! What a program! Ya know, I think I’ll do it!” Naruto was rearranging his crumpled attire, offended and turning red.

“Do it then!” Sasuke was crackling with electricity; his bangs hugged his cheeks.

“I’m meaning to!”

“Great!”

“Grea—t!” This exchange was carried out with much gesticulating and kicking of the ground. At its closure, Naruto was stomping straight into the woods, not to find a bear or a waterfall, but the camp he shared with his spiteful friend. Sasuke could still hear the twigs under his companion’s feet breaking a minute after he had gone. He closed his eyes and groaned so that he was shaking.

In a while, he decided to make good on his promise of the outhouse, but not before he stopped by the tavern for a quick visit.

*

Naruto had been right about one thing: the barmaid had been watching them. That said, she was enjoying a look from up close and real personal at the behest of Sasuke.

A word on his promiscuity shall relate how this man set about his affairs. He wouldn’t be honest if it may have harmed him. Few things can injure the proud, pragmatic species as were Sasuke’s kind, but shame did the trick. For shame, he hemorrhaged. One cannot upset the confidence of his sort without an inward interference, an infection of their natural state of being which would never hold up a mirror to itself and frown unless on the lookout for a flaw. Naruto was this interference of Sasuke’s natural state. He yearned for him, longed to be smiled upon by him every minute of his life, and would do anything to realize this ambition except ask for it. He wasn’t prepared; his deterrent embarrassment chided him. So, when hoping to see human cowardice one needs look no further than to the exalted elect for our prime specimen; they have too much to lose. Sasuke substituted Naruto for coquetries whenever the urge came on.

He was struggling, impatient to get the barmaid’s shorts and underwear down her legs, but they were very tight. Having had much practice, and none too much consideration withal, he succeeded in this task before long. Pulling on her hip, he tried to say that he wanted her on her stomach; without recognizing it, she saw fit to socialize and was pulling on his vest, dragging it off and down his arms, trapping him further by entangling his legs with hers. He disliked this.

Sasuke’s cape was spread out under them. It was high-quality wool and quite large, so it did a fair job of separating the moisture in the ground from their increasingly naked bodies.

Annoyed even at her enthusiasm, he recoiled to glare at her and her blue eyes blinked hazily back at him. A long, yellow hair had found its way into his mouth, and Sasuke swallowed nearly his whole hand to be rid of it.

Of a sudden the barmaid laughed. “I love your type the most,” she said. “I could tell right away what you were, but fugitives aren’t typically so keen to acquaint themselves with the locals round here.” She had out of boredom persuaded herself to fall in love with who she imagined Sasuke to be, apparently taking him and his companion for delinquents. “Don’t worry!” she hurried to add. “I won’t tell a soul!” Sasuke rather staggered with boredom himself, but decided to humor her fantasy. She was, after all, humoring his.

“That’s good, ” he replied, seductively. “We just might help one another. Let me return the favor.” So saying, he flipped her over so that her ass was in his face. The barmaid giggled. He bent over her back, hovering his lips over her skin but avoiding contact. When it came time to line himself up and he sank into her, he felt her soft body envelop him and was instantly frustrated. It wasn’t right. The attempt had been a failure; it was only a sad reminder of the real thing. He closed his eyes.

Sasuke thrust quickly, angrily; he grabbed a fistful of locks and pressed it to his face, bending forward and inhaling deeply. It was almost good, but her voice was a constant disturbance that rubbed him entirely the wrong way.

She wanted to touch him, too. It annoyed him, and so he parried any attempt to, finally pinning her hands. It seemed to incite her, and Sasuke’s frustration grew. This wasn’t what he wanted.

When he pulled out she protested, but he quickly penetrated her ass instead and any complaints were aborted, as he moaned despite himself. Her small, brown hands clutched the cape. She pressed her ass against him. Sasuke was mindlessly lost in her features and gaped at them.

He was aware of one thing: that it was, in fact, himself being screwed behind an outhouse, not some blonde strange he’d picked up.

“Oh—my—god—you’re a freak!” gasped approvingly the barmaid with her cheek to the ground.

“Shut up, you idiot!” answered Sasuke. He was hissing with effort.

“What?” Between ragged breaths, she sounded a confused squeal. “That is so mean!”

“Yeah? Call me a bastard.”

“What?”

“Call me a bastard, I said!” Their bodies were slapping together. She was practically sliding on the cape, and her knees were bruising. Sasuke corrected this by gripping her hips. Confused though she may be, she glanced backward and stuttered obediently:

“B—bastard?”

“Again!”  he demanded. “Call me a bastard, you sack of dumb!”

“A—ah! You’re a bastard!”

“Fuck yeah!” He slapped her ass.

“Damn bastard!”

“I am! Call me a good-for-nothing smartass who should suck your dick!”

“A—a what?”

“Do it, you stupid bitch!”

“You—good-for-nothing smartass! Suck my dick!”

“Ahhh yes! ‘Bastard,’ throw a ‘bastard’ in there, too! Do it! Do it quickly!”

“Suck my dick, you fucking bastard smartass!”

“Ahh! Ah! Fu—!" He came in loads so that it spilled down the both of them.

Sasuke wilted and rode out the afterglow, thrusting weakly a few times. Rolling off of her, his body thudded to the ground and he sighed, relieved, meanwhile the smell of sweat and shampoo and shit filtered his nose. He was filthy in the way one doesn’t really notice pre-orgasm and is disgusted at post fact.

“Oh, what the fuck!” The barmaid squawked as she twisted to see her rear. “You fucking came inside me! What the hell, asshole!”

“You can stop now. It’s over,” he said, lying naked and with his attention to the sky. He didn’t want to look at her.

“You’re a real freak, you know that!” At her outraged complaining, Sasuke began to laugh as was rare of him to do. He clutched his stomach in fact, he felt so tickled. It came on like an episode, and he felt the need to draw his knees up and lay on his side, presenting his back to the barmaid in an effort to hide himself from her. He put his hands over his mouth and laughed uncontrollably.

When Sasuke’s mirth stilled the girl was gone, and he was wiping himself down with his socks. He looked upwards to the blackened sky and the dizzying lights of stars and dressed himself slowly, not simply in cloth but in humiliation more importantly. He sighed, and looked in the direction of his and Naruto’s camp.

 

*

 

Naruto lay in his sleeping bag when a drunken man tumbled into the camp he shared with his friend. He had kept the fire going and prepared both beddings. His back was turned to the sound of approaching, but he lay wide awake and was ready to rave.

“Oof!” A thud was heard. “Ouch—son of a—" The drunkard’s foot, Sasuke’s, had caught on something and tripped him. Naruto rolled his eyes and pulled the covers over his ear. With a rustle, their bags which had been sitting peacefully by Naruto’s head were upended in a flurry of clumsy movements supplied by the arrival. The sound of Sasuke’s sleeping bag being messed with, the zipper sticking, as well as Uchiha’s cursing pervaded their small camping site until Naruto was nearly furious with it. When silence at due last came, he didn’t let himself relax but stiffened his body like a board and listened; and only after a few minutes like this, when he believed that Sasuke was actually asleep, he sighed. That instant a loud whisper startled his attention afresh.

“Hey!” it said. “You up?” Had Sasuke been able to see the face alerted by his rude perchance, he would’ve gone to sleep on top of his pack. Naruto tensed additionally at hearing his friend’s shuffling closer; he was crawling on his hands and knees, by the sound of it. “Hey!” It really was a damned shame how he couldn’t see Naruto’s face.

“What!” spat the blonde, turning over and sitting up soon as Sasuke’s hand touched his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“I. . .“ Sasuke’s eyes drooped sadly, and alcohol stank up the space each time he waved an arm or shook his head. He had preferred drinking some more before coming back it appeared. “I can’t get in my sleeping bag. . .” Naruto scoffed at this, but he still looked to where his friend pointed.

“And?” he demanded to know. “What about it?”

“And I want you to help me with it.” Obviously thinking himself very cute, Uchiha smiled. He couldn’t know how resentful the other man felt with him because Naruto kept it a secret, therefore was naïvely aggravating him the more with jokes.

Beneath Naruto’s sinking perusal there shifted the rumpled dress of Sasuke’s roll behind the outhouse, and it made his stomach turn. He couldn’t stand to look yet refused all the same to look away, burning holes with his envy. Sasuke, in turn, seemed to understand something of what his friend was feeling, and made a tight grimace at it.

“Do it yourself,” Naruto said and lay back down, turning away. “If yer too messed up to figure out a zipper then you _should_ sleep on the ground.”

“Hey, come on!” Accompanying this whining note was nauseating breath that stung the blonde’s nose while Sasuke’s entire weight draped across his back. “What’re you so grumpy for?” His voice was jeering.

Naruto was paralyzed; this time not because Sasuke was electrical, but because he was warm and heavy on top of him. He didn’t dare to move for the risk of Sasuke doing the same. Keeping his mouth securely shut, he was absorbing the waking contempt that he had for himself. If given only a chance to, he would like to forget it for a while, and maybe then it would lessen; but Sasuke would too often stand all too closely to him, or observe him in a way that made Naruto swear he was being called on, and so forgetting was absolutely impossible. Hence, he wouldn’t dare make the same mistake twice and think that his friend was in love with him.

“Didn’t you miss me?” Fingertips lightly appeared on Naruto’s brow, and were stroking bangs out of view. This was completely surprising because Sasuke never touched Naruto’s face, and not any part of him lightly.

Naruto could choose to hide under his arm or to turn his head, but in a crushing blow he learnt which need was truly greater: the heart triumphed over mind, cheering in full parade. He stirred not but looked down.

“You usually do.” Those fingers stayed and hovered just on his skin; Naruto couldn’t anticipate what was their intent, but then the feathery touch crossed the line between what is a chance contact and a deliberate gesture. As soon as it did, the recipient closed his eyes hard and held his breath. The hand turned, and Sasuke caressed Naruto’s cheekbone with his knuckles before running the pad of his thumb over it. Suddenly, pallid fingers parted yellow hair, brushing it back, and Naruto couldn’t hold still any longer. He flew from his bedding and sat, staring wildly at his friend.

“What’re you doing?” he wanted to know.

“What?” Sasuke wore an unusual mien, one which was interpreted as a brand of quiet elation and industry. Naruto blamed it on the booze.

“I said: what’re you doing?”

“Relax! It’s fine, isn’t it?”

“What’s fine!” When Sasuke in one motion came forward and wrapped his arms around him, Naruto started in protest. His knee lifted, his hands shot into the air to pull his friend off of himself—but found that he couldn’t resist. Sasuke might as well have been made of vapor; he was shapeless and therefore not graspable.

Naruto saw the way his palms shook before him, immovable even though he was begging himself to go, to leave camp immediately. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t free himself.

His jaw felt like to break where he sat, stupidly assenting whatever be done with him. But could it truly be called ‘assent?’ He was in love and for that reason a lunatic! Lunatics in love will starve to keep their lovers full. He wasn’t consenting; he was surrendering a hopeless battle.

Sloppy kisses then pressed to his neck and a pleasurable heat began to pulse in his gut; Naruto was panicking at this. Sasuke smelled good, he thought, besides the stench. He felt good, too—too good.

“What—” he gasped “—this—" He could feel his clothes being rumpled; the front of his shirt was bunching under Sasuke’s building eagerness. Every chance Naruto had to object was replacing with sighs at the treatment that he couldn’t allow but couldn’t refuse either. His skin was abruptly made subject to a foreign impression: Sasuke’s hands dove in under his clothes and roved over his abdomen and chest. The blonde stuttered in shock at the immediate pleasure, and the shame which reared to overshadow it.

“Wait!” he whispered. Sasuke mumbled approvingly in his ear, grabbing a harder hold of his body. He tried to push Naruto backwards so that he would lay down, but met with budding resistance in the form of inaction. “Wait, damnit!” spat Naruto. Sasuke was then disengaged like a leech only thanks to his target violently shuddering. He was held at an arm’s length. “What’s gotten into you?” They were both breathing heavily. “It’s me, ya know! Like, how drunk do you have to be. . .” Naruto’s black t-shirt was tousled and his face awkwardly excited, turning redder by the minute. He’d not seen Sasuke like this before. Thinking that it may have to do with their brush with death that day, he pitied him.

Sasuke didn’t make a reply but looked down at himself, picking at his clothes and the stains on them. He peered back up, looking almost apologetic, and shrugged off his friend’s hands.

“Wha—” Naruto’s throat sealed when Sasuke unclasped his cape and let it fall from his shoulders, then wringing out of his vest and letting it do the same. The blonde stared like he was about to be murdered, but followed the other’s movements carefully, only breaking eye contact to watch the clothing peel away. “What’re you. . .” Sasuke sat in front of him, black three-quarters and a loose, gray tunic that opened halfway down his chest the only articles left except for his sandals. He’d gotten rid of the socks already. Naruto swallowed. “You’ll freeze like that, ya know,” he pointed out. Sasuke boldly neared, walking on his knees, reaching for him and touching his cheeks. Their faces were separated by merely a shallow breath. Naruto couldn’t keep from letting his eyes drop, betraying his secret, to look at the mouth in front of him; he cursed himself.

“So, warm me up then,” Sasuke whispered before bending forward and covering Naruto’s mouth with his own. At this mind-blowing stunt, the blonde’s eyes widened utterly and his reddened hue spread down to his chest. That’s it, he thought, the shitty drunk’s out of his mind.

“Mh! Jeez!” He pushed Sasuke away, wiping his lips dry; but this didn’t even register with him by the looks of his answering maneuver. Uchiha casually dodged his friend’s hands and lifted his knee, swinging his leg over Naruto’s lap and bestriding it. It was a move he’d not expected, and which therefore made the blonde all but leap out of his skin when he was sat on.

Naruto gasped and in wild agitation groped around himself, jerking forward. Sasuke swayed but stayed put, holding on firmly. The skin under Naruto’s eye was then kissed, his jaw touched, his head held. He listened to Sasuke taking a deep breath, and felt him bury his face in his hair. Grimacing with misery now, Naruto whined.

“Hey,” he said. “I—I’m not one of yur roadside-pick-me-ups, ya know. I won’t go beyond this point.” Again, without answering him, Sasuke instead reached behind himself and quickly lifted his body up, pulling Naruto’s sleeping bag away from between them. He sat down again and Naruto nearly toppled them both by the force of his reaction. He lunged forward, his voice escaping and forcing them to jointly dwell on its pitch while Sasuke held him in place.

The blonde bit his lip hard, punishing himself, and dropped his forehead to his friend’s shoulder. There was only the fabric of their pants separating them, and Sasuke’s being very loose, Naruto knew he could feel everything. A sickened jolt shot through his stomach, and he raked the earth with his fingers. Sasuke then lent back, lifted the other’s chin up by force, looking completely red in the face, and he dove closer to kiss him hard, rolling his hips meanwhile.

“Mmh!” Naruto complained.

“It’s fine!” mumbled his friend against his lips. Uzumaki frowned fiercely at his companion and began to grieve. He was wholly without control. “It’s fine.” Insisting, running his hands over Naruto’s face and body, Sasuke was ostensibly oblivious to the torture he was putting him through, either that or he thought he could convince him to enjoy himself. “Touch me,” he urged; but no compliance met with his demand. “Naruto, touch me…!” A heaving sigh was drawn but no caresses; the other sat stubbornly unmoving. When his hand was picked up, Naruto pulled feebly on it and protested while his fingers were sucked, his palm nibbled.

“Stop. Just stop,” he said. The kisses travelled up his arm and Naruto’s pulse jumped. Somehow, he let his eyes close and he lost himself momentarily in the overwhelming experience of Sasuke’s lust. When he opened his eyes again, he was laid down somehow he didn’t quite understand. Absently, he noted that the fire to the left of him had been reduced to embers, and he was getting lost in their crimson signature and the cold air sweeping across his stomach. There was a bird somewhere.

The nylon and zippers of his sleeping bag and jacket bit into his naked back; suddenly aware of this, it shocked his attention into order and Naruto rubbed his face, panting, and found his friend to be dragging his tongue across his abdomen, devotedly working his way downward and already with his fingers hooked in the lining of his pants, pulling on them. He’d lost only a few seconds, but Naruto rejoined reality with a galloping objection now present in his mind. Sasuke was the type of person who enjoyed casual sex; Uzumaki wasn’t. He definitely couldn’t let this thing proceed. Another heartbreak thanks to that guy was his absolute bane; thankfully, he was fully aware of that.

He touched sadly the raven head hovering over his crotch. Sasuke’s hair was silky and thick, and it rose with static electricity at being touched. Individual strands reached for Naruto when the bearer himself lifted his face to grace him a curious look. Naruto whispered:

“Don’t make me stop you myself.” Sasuke sank his brows in strange sympathy, and touched his friend’s hand. For a moment all was well in the world. For just one perfect moment, the blonde was convinced they understood one another. But Uchiha’s regard soon morphed, and he was looking at the other man in that way which unfailingly walloped him with the idea that he was beloved. He suffered, and it shook a stutter from Naruto when his pants were unbuttoned, and anything but delicate hands tugged on them. He jumped, taking hold of both pants and Uchiha’s shoulder dually. Blocking Sasuke’s chest with his forearm, he enunciated: “That’s enough!”

Sasuke looked at him blankly. Then his gaze was flickering, the lips parted before closing again while a crease formed above the nose. Naruto recognized that his companion was confused, but felt too vulnerable himself to want to help him. He prepared to fight. Sasuke’s cheeks dimpled with a smile then, and he spoke:

“You’re pining for me; you can’t tell me otherwise.”

“Not every living person is looking to worship yur dick, asshole. You’ve no idea what I want, ya know.”

“Don’t be stupid. Just touch me!” Sasuke advanced again, leaning toward Naruto and trying to kiss him. He was dodged however, and the blonde pushed on him seriously this time.

“Get off!” he commanded. But Sasuke withstood the strong shove. The confusion resurfaced on him and was let aloud with banners.

“You lie about the most ridiculous things!” erupted he. “You should look at yourself right now! _Please_ , god damn you! Do you want me to grovel? I already am, if you’d just look at me and notice!”

“Well, I’m sorry but I’m not going to sleep with you just to make you stop begging for it, ya know!” Sasuke angrily took to the pants again, as if hoping to win the argument by producing a point. “Stop!”

“Naruto,” he said emphatically. “Think of that time in the hospital—”

“Like it isn’t all I ever think about!”

“—I know you want me.” Naruto turned his head away, and Sasuke struggled to redirect it. “Would you—!” With a grunt, Sasuke became set on breaking the block that Naruto had on him, and fidgeted forcefully with the arm across his chest until it was down. The blonde cursed and resisted in earnest, but couldn’t keep from being straddled again, nor his head being taken into Sasuke’s hands. His efforts spent, Naruto was returned to the position he’d found himself in when he hadn’t objected at all, and this was another blow to his self-worth. “Admit it!” Uchiha barked. “Look at me and tell me again; say you love me and you want me!” Naruto sneered. He was furious with Sasuke.

Where did the little shit get off talking to him like this? Before any and all admonishment, Naruto was a bucking ass; and for this reason, if he got it into his head somehow to scorch the Earth, then he would; he was like a poltergeist in how he during such an episode made plain his unwillingness to communicate, instead upturning whatever into a heap.

“You called me a liar once and boasted,” continued Sasuke. “Probably thinking you’d distilled me with that one word. Well, since that time, I’ve thought about it; and now I’ve come up with a name for you too. That is: hypocrite. I know you see why.” Even though his words were hard, Uchiha’s grip was softening, and Naruto was thus temporarily pacified, one might even say ‘hypnotized’ at being held. “Don’t complain if I don’t listen.” The blonde was still, lost in a kiss that brought tears to his eyes. It was then that Sasuke, without warning, fisted bright hair and pulled Naruto’s head back, deepening their exchange remarkably, and was duly overwhelmed by that stubbornness which we have related.

Naruto abhorred to be called a hypocrite. He’d painstakingly retraced his steps that day in the hospital, and raged at himself, foregoing sleep for a long while after, when Sasuke had slipped away without waking him a week after the fact. This currency, he thought, was a mockery of him.

In a sudden display of chemistry, the ground directly approximating Naruto and Sasuke was cracked; concentric seams marked the earth beneath them in a 2-meter-radius, hissing with disintegration due whatever catalyst enabled the scarlet chakra that enveloped the blonde. Sasuke was knocked down before the jinchuuriki landed on his chest, baring his teeth and whipping his tails.

“Is this what you want!” Naruto’s voice was altered the way a pocket watch gets altered when it is dashed to the wall and the springs and cogs fly out. It was rugged, broken, barely comprehendible as well as juxtaposed with the voice of The Fox. “To be devoured!” Naruto couldn’t keep from cutting Sasuke with his claws by seizing him shoulder-wise, and it made him flinch at the expression of pain which flashed beneath him; but he wouldn’t be persuaded by it. “Don’t complain! Yer telling me: ‘don’t complain’ and shove yur tongue down my throat? You must’ve hit yur head: do you know who yer rubbing up against? Or is this just some fucked up revenge on yer part?”

“How nostalgic,” breathed Sasuke. He was grinding his teeth and straining a smile. “No, I—was clearly not thinking straight, you see? Just—forget it.”

“Forget!” The blonde curved his back like an animal, his bones fracturing audibly and soft tissues tearing under the tremendous exertion. “Kh!”

“Naru—you have to—calm down!”

“If this is how you treat all those skanks you so love ditching me for, then I should want to do exactly what yer asking and not waste any concern for yur sake! How dare you talk to me about ‘want!’ My wants are irrelevant! The single damned thing that matters is what it takes to make you happy, you petulant little snob!”

“Ha! So, it begs of the monster in you to speak your mind, Naruto? Fine. Break your—back if your so intent on keeping me on mine. And you’re right—don’t waste your concern! Haven’t I been making myself—perfectly clear?” Naruto, in a rage, slashed with his claws the ground next to Sasuke’s face, leaving deep grooves in it and making his friend turn his head in alarm. Dirt pattered down on the sleeping bags while Uzumaki re-fastened his hand, weighing on it. Sasuke bit his tongue and jerked.

“Don’t test me!” growled the monstrous Naruto.

“My God—” Uchiha answered lowly “—you consider yourself on some sort of self-sacrificial journey? It’s incredible—how dim you are. What do you think it would sound like—if I tried addressing your needs? Hm? Let’s just—imagine—that what you want is important to me—crazy thought!—how do you think I might go about seeing to it—after you pigheadedly avoid the subject! If all you’re doing here is babysitting me then feel free—to piss right off!”

“What? Yer interested? Uchiha Sasuke, the fucking genius! Yur way of caring for a person puts offenders to shame, ya know!”

“Get off me.”

“What was that? You want me off? I must be hearing things; I thought you said you wanted me to get off. Check this shit out—” Naruto promptly released his bloodied grip on his friend and stood himself up. “—Magic! Ooh! How did he do that!” Sasuke slowly sat, cradling his cut-up shoulders the best he could. It made Naruto spit, looking at him. The red chakra of The Fox soon diminished before disappearing altogether, and Naruto watched as his stained claws receded, becoming bloody nails.

“I’m fine,” Sasuke assured him quietly.

“I was not asking and I don’t care what you are!” rewarded Naruto. He limped some way away from his friend, and looking over his shoulder, he added: “To hell with you!” Slumping to the ground, he sat opposite to Sasuke, with the dead fireplace between them.

They didn’t speak for a while, and during this time a series of clicks and clacks were heard throughout the camp site: Naruto’s bones resetting and healing themselves. The blonde sulked and grimaced awkwardly from pain in time with these sounds. Sasuke hadn’t moved at all.

“It doesn’t feel too great, does it?” Naruto of a sudden asked, glaring at the dirt between his knees. Sasuke rose his head slowly.

“Hypocrite,” he said. And with that, Uzumaki got up once more, this time as gracefully as a buck, and he turned on his heel and walked into the forest with a final word of parting before leaving his companion alone:

“Don’t talk to me tomorrow.”

*

It was shameful, of course he knew that; Naruto wasn’t proud of himself, standing with his dick in his hands. In fact, he was looking spastically all around, only pausing when his knees bent and his jaw went slack. His hand slapped to the tree trunk he’d been leaning on, his forehead went to the back of it, and he supported himself for half a minute while his breathing normalized. Looking down afterwards, he kicked some dirt over the so-called corpus delecti and sighed.

“Hypocrite,” he said.


	5. Sasuke's Culpability

Another two years and ten months passed by the Five Great Nations. It was autumn, and the post-war repairs were progressing unevenly. Overall, the fastest recovery was being made in the hidden villages; they possessed the shinobi themselves, and sold their assistance in construction as they were frightfully effective at that work. It followed that these villages were able to continue their own rebuilding around the clock, and that the Kages became wealthy.

It needs be said that these commissions weren’t at large placed by civilians, who were too poor themselves to afford expensive shinobi, but the demands came from the daimyous’ personal offices.

To live, as a civilian, near a hidden village during this time, was to be fortunate as one had safety and food, both in large supply. It only became obvious that such a political force wasn’t close by where there was found instead of revival starvation and other faces of evil. To reside on the border of one of the mysterious capitals, and even inside them, was only slightly better than doing so in a detached part of society: crime filled the gap in misery where access to food was abundant.

The reason for why closing in on a hidden village had become so advantageous wasn’t due to their immense war-profits—it was thanks to Konoha. Konoha’s example was heeded by all other hidden villages, and Konoha was charitable. This charity tossed a whopping percentage of income into the breeze, so to speak, so that it blew to non-shinobi areas in the form of shrugging, armed tourists with forehead protectors on display, trundling carts of budgeted grain. The Hokage and his famous apprentice were regarded as heroes twice over by the populace of the Great Nations.

Without further ado, the narrator reminds the reader that Naruto and Sasuke are twenty-three years old this year, as are their contemporaries in Konoha, hereon referred to as Bunshin-Naruto and Bunshin-Sasuke.

The story continues.

*

Inside the Uzumaki residence things were topsy-turvy.

“I’m sorry. I tried to get off but I just couldn’t.” The husband of this particular household not having gone to work before 8 a.m. was a freak happening. It was currently around 8:45, and since he’d stepped into the hallway three quarters earlier he’d not so much as advanced but slunk into the kitchen like a scolded pet. There he remained, forbidden even to take a seat.

“You promised him you’d spend the day together, and then you didn’t. And you used to be so keen on promises!” As for the wife, her outspokenness was altogether so unusual that we must take it for some sort of attack. She’d not slept well for a while, her baby was kicking, and her five-year-old son, Boruto, had been fussing all morning. She blamed her difficulties in this moment on her absent partner.

Hinata gripped the sink and leaned on it, waiting for a good response. She’d been doing the dishes and had her back to her husband. Bunshin-Naruto sighed and considered tiredly his reason for letting his family down. With his eyes to the floor he said:

“I didn’t promise, I said I’d try. That’s not promising: promising is when you formally vow something or the other. I thought I’d definitely finish on time but it’s not like it’s up to me.” Hinata was shaking her head at this and she thrust her hands back into the foamy basin.

“You don’t need to lecture me about it; I know all about your convoluted _vows_ ,” she reprimanded. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

“You’re right,” answered the accused. “The point is that I gave him false expectations.” He came forward and put his hand on the sink. “Listen, you don’t have to do that. Can’t I help you somehow? I could send someone.” Bunshin-Naruto’s voice was pathetic when he admitted fault. He wouldn’t dream of arguing with most of anything Hinata told him; the definition of promises was a rare exception.

“You know what the worst part is?” Hinata turned to him and tossed the washcloth down after wiping her hands on it. She pointed a stern finger at Bunshin-Naruto’s gaping expression. “The worst part of you not being here isn’t even the look on his little face when you left, or being asked where his daddy’s going and having to come up with a response for such a terrible, terrible question; but the absolutely worst part is the fact that he—didn’t—ask!” She slapped her husband’s arms twice as she had spoken, emphasizing in such a way her point. It was all that Bunshin-Naruto could do to duck his head and embrace the treatment: he’d earned it.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, trying not to cower too much.

“You should be! It’s unforgivable you forgot about your son!”

“I didn’t forget—”

“You should’ve been here!” She put a hand to her forehead as if descrying something in the distance, but trouble brewed on her particular horizon. “Go apologize to him, Naruto-kun,” she pressed. Bunshin-Naruto shuffled his feet a second.

“I—I’ve gotta get to work. I should’ve been there fifty minutes—"

“Go!” Hinata pointed up the stairs for his profound miscommunication’s sake. “Apologize! Now!” The failing father scrambled immediately to abide, rounding her like a crab. Shuffling and limping through the vault-way letting out of their kitchen and into the hallway where the staircase faced the front door, he set his cane first to the steps and began heaving himself upwards.

*

While it is undeniable, most importantly, that Bunshin-Naruto and Naruto were so similar in appearance that their loved ones struggled to tell them apart, they were not identical. For this reason, we will try and describe Bunshin-Naruto and compare him physically to Naruto.

Bunshin-Naruto’s features were narrower than Naruto’s, they were also paler, casting many more shadows on themselves from the mark of hunger as well as ineffable pain. The blue eyes appeared darker under a heavier brow and wore a fixated, unsettling look. The hair was cropped and not flattering. The lips were nearly the same at least, thick and wide, but they were curving downward, scowling tightly. His was the face of a man on the brink, nearly out-maneuvered and eager to avenge himself on whosoever.

In his left hand was a crutch on which he heavily lent. The corresponding foot was lifted faintly off the floor as no weight was being put on the knee, leaving the other to substitute fully. It was apparent to the onlooker that Bunshin-Naruto had been walking with a crutch for a long time, because leg and arm moved as one, and were attached to each other in this way. Despite his seeming ability, his reliance all the same distorted his posture, and Bunshin-Naruto thus stood crookedly with one shoulder higher than the other, and his left arm flexed together with his back and his chest, imitating the use that his leg had once served.

He wore the Konoha uniform together with a flak jacket which was too big for him. The headband did not cover his forehead, but hung, like Sasuke’s, off his belt.

With Naruto in mind, this man that we have portrayed is the debilitated version; in relation to each other, one was weak where the other was strong.

Bunshin-Naruto rapped carefully on the open door of his son’s room. A blonde-haired child, Boruto, was racing around and playing pretend with a little plastic seagull in his hand, making whooshing noises at it. He awkwardly slowed to a stop, seeing who it was. Boruto then quickly turned back around, resuming his play but quieter from before and without running.

“You—uh. . .What’cha playing there?” Bunshin-Naruto wondered, rubbing his neck and trying to at least act like he wasn’t wholly unfamiliar with what his kid liked to play and talk about. “Is that a bird you got? Does it have a name?” Boruto didn’t reply, only smiled shyly to himself and was turning the toy in his hands. Bunshin-Naruto wondered briefly if his son still liked macaroni. He’d had a period when he’d been crazy about the stuff and would throw a fit if he couldn’t have it with every meal—something which had made his pensive father laugh every time.

This train of thought gave way to a by now constant pressure in Bunshin-Naruto’s chest. He rubbed at it, trying to ignore the tingling in his hands and feet. Taking a deep breath, he stooped and strategically kept from bending his left foot at the ankle.

“Honey,” he said and put a hand on Boruto’s back. The hand was as wide as the son, and Bunshin-Naruto rubbed Boruto’s shoulder with his thumb. “Daddy loves you very much,” added he. The boy didn’t give a response, but he flicked his eyes in his father’s direction. “You hear that? Nothing will ever change that. But dads have to work, and that’s why I can’t always be here at home with you, even though I want to be. I’m sorry I disappointed you and made you wait yesterday. I really tried to make it, but daddy’s boss needed me at the office. D’ya understand?” Boruto nodded his little head, and blonde tufts waved up and down. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” the boy whispered.

“You’re the joy of my life.” Bunshin-Naruto’s son turned into his embrace and pecked his father’s lips before again focusing on his game. Flopping down on the floor, he raised his seagull up and it was as if he were alone. Bunshin-Naruto covered his mouth and looked at him hopelessly. He feared that his relationship to his boy had been irrevocably damaged.

*

“Ahg!” _Crash_! A potted plant flew at the doorframe, missed it and thereof left an ugly dent in the wallpaper before falling down and smashing on the floor. There was dirt all over the carpet, and purple flower heads lay innocently slain. Water had flown in rivulets across Sakura’s arms, the tablecloth and Bunshin-Sasuke’s cheek. He’d flinched and widened his dumb stare at being almost hit by jet-fueled heartsease.

As for the Sasuke/Bunshin-Sasuke comparison, we will limit ourselves to say that they first of all wore similar clothing; that meaning that they wore dark greys and blues which covered their limbs, and on top they each wore long, black capes. Finally, they were remarkably alike physically, but Bunshin-Sasuke was unkempt and filthy. His hands and face were covered in angry abrasions; he had a scraggly beard which covered his jaw and cheeks only in patches, and his hair was an infested mess of black tangles, touching the middle part of his back at this point. Beyond this, he reeked.

“How did you get in here!?” Sakura shrieked, her hands dripping with tremor and sodden water. Bunshin-Sasuke stood in the doorway leading from her kitchen. He stepped hesitantly and her finger flew up. “Don’t—move!” she demanded. Sarada was behind her mother and had her hands in her mouth, staring fearfully at her father, whining on and off. Bunshin-Sasuke answered her attention by silently raising his brows at her. “Put those back! Put them back where you found them right now!” Sakura commanded her estranged husband, and caused him to toss a glance downward at the cradled box of cherry tomatoes in his arms. He then scowled at her.

“Those are your daughter’s snacks! You do not—sneak in here like some damned burglar and steal from your child! Put them back this second!” Sakura was stomping her feet, clearly dipping her toes in the crazy floods this time. Sarada began to cry, and fisted her mother’s dress, hiding her face in it. Sakura paid little mind to her daughter but took her small hand in hers, yelling at Bunshin-Sasuke all the while.

He was glaring red and clutched his prey so that his fingers paled like bone. Clawing at the tomatoes, he all but hissed while he seemed to ponder things. He shifted his weight forward then backward, to the kitchen from the corridor behind him, squat in a broad-footed posture.

“You—you thieving psycho! You steal from children now?” Bunshin-Sasuke crept closer, and eyed the floor warily. “Don’t come any closer! Just put them down where you are and get out!” Sakura was nervous. “Put them down!” Bunshin-Sasuke considered the floor between his feet, then considered the tomatoes. It wasn’t long before he’d reached a decision. He hopped, with both feet at once, up unto the kitchen table. Sakura’s jaw dropped and she thought to herself that her life was a joke.

Bunshin-Sasuke lent over the flower pots and the candelabrum and opened the window. Then he looked over his shoulder, glaring provokingly at Sakura.

“Get—get down from there! Sasuke!” Sharingan fused and changed into a menacing pattern like a star; blood streaked Bunshin-Sasuke’s cheek. “Oh, you’re crying blood now? Really?” In a light spring, he hopped outside and left the table a shamble with willy-nilly sandal prints and knocked over assortments. Sakura was shocked. She stood speechless, mouth agape in the kitchen while Sarada wept ear-piercingly.

*

The icy winds howled and screamed fearfully at the two travelers afoot. Struggling slowly, they covered wide strides forward in the snow which touched their knees and blinded them with its sparkling whiteness. The land was a frigid waste, hard traversed; and so they let wrap their cloaks tightly about themselves and carefully covered the sensitive skin of their faces, tucking the ends of their whipping mantles under arm. At first glance it would seem as if there lay not a thing about for miles but snow and sparse pine trees. One couldn’t see the footprints behind oneself for the wind.

“Halt!” But don’t let deception guide you. “Who goes there!?” One can hardly ever expect to be completely alone. The two travelers stopped in their tracks and raised their heads to the wind.

“Konoha!” cried the one, holding up his forehead protector for inspection. The weather left little room for such a thing however, and the man on the obscured wall before them, looking down, replied:

“Shinobi? What does Konoha want with the land of Iron!?”

“Oh! We just stopped by for a chat! _Ouch_!” The figure standing to the left was kicked in the calf by his companion, and he loudly complained thereof.

“We request an audience with general Mifune!” called the one on the right.

“What!” The man on the wall lent down toward them, the better to see. “You there!” he cried. “State your name and your dealings here!”

“Hey!” The left-most man took a step forward in objection, but his companion soothed his outrage by holding an arm out before his stride.

“I already gave you my dealings! And I’d prefer to introduce myself to general Mifune personally, if you don’t mind, rather than each man I see!”

“Identify yourself, shinobi of Konoha!” The watch didn’t look the type to appreciate shenanigans.

“ _Tch_!” The traveler on the left huffed angrily. “It can’t be helped, huh?”

“Fine. Let’s tell him.”

“It’s Uzumaki Naruto!”

“And who’s the other one!?” called the guard.

“Ando Momofuku-sensei!”

“Ando-sensei, you say!”

“Yup! That’s right, ya know!” replied the left-most person. His arms crossed boastfully his inflated chest. “So, are you going to be letting us in or not!?” A period of silence ensued. The two looked at each other and exchanged meaningful nods and grunts—before two previously unseen great doors began slowly swinging open in front of them.

“Yeah,” the guard cried from on high. “Okay! ‘Why not’ is what I always say! Come on in, Uzumaki-san! Ando-sensei!” Before the falling snow, dropping like curtains off the shifting surface, Naruto and Ando-sensei could hardly believe their good luck. They both raised their eyebrows in thanks and subdued wonder, awkwardly bowing right and left whilst waltzing inside.

What awaited them was the vast locale produced from a previous visit on sensei’s part, thankfully now in a state of repair and rather operational; but nonetheless it diminished somewhat the glorious impression of far reaches and stone columns to see constructional makeshifts in place and to hear the sound of hammers.

Ando-sensei, with an odd expression, pulled his hood further down his forehead and Naruto simply let his drop.

The great doors swung shut behind them with a sound like an earthquake, and the two travelers didn’t get one step inside before they were briskly approached by a troop of jingling samurai. Their leader looked none so impressed with either of them but reached unblinkingly for the one with the hood. This was the general.

Ando-sensei grunted at being seized.

“He—hey! Hold on a sec!” Naruto exclaimed.

“You!” The old man shaking Ando-sensei by the cloak growled menacingly, all but bearing teeth. The hood fell at last from the violent treatment, and yet no struggle arose from it. “You dare set foot in here! After what you’ve done!?” The general wore a weathered suit of armor, bandages around his furrowed head, a sword at his left hip and his grey hair long and loose.

“Naruto!” Holding up a pale hand to his friend, Ando-sensei thereby stopped the impending beat-down which hung over the general as sure as a prophecy would. “It’s fine,” he said. “You’re right, general Mifune. What I’ve done is unforgivable, but I can promise you—I’ve no ill intention left in me. What I undoubtedly did in the past were the awful actions of a criminal. I don’t deny any of it.”

“I should kill you myself!”

“Need I remind you all—" Naruto raised his voice just as Mifune’s hand tightened around his hilt and his samurai followed suit “—that _Ando-sensei_ was pardoned by the sixth Hokage, by Gaara and the other guys, as well? That includes you, old man.” Of course, it would be unwise to speak Sasuke’s name aloud in such a location: it would most likely cause a panic. General Mifune pulled a disgruntled face and saw to the blonde.

“Formalities, kid!” he said. “Get used to them! It hasn’t got anything to do with what’s going on in the real world.”

“Call it whatever you want. I’m not saying what happened here is alright, and he doesn’t think so either, ya know. I’m just telling you the facts which include the passage of six years and the importance of those same years; going from seventeen to twenty-three is no trifle. . .“

“Ha! You think that’s bad? Try going from there to _seventy_ -three! You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

“I probably don’t! You’re right. But I do know _him_.” Naruto gestured to his captive comrade. “And he’s my best friend. The best one anyone could have—and I’ll swear by that.”

The general stood fast, unblinking and wheezing hot breath unto Sasuke’s nose.

“Please, General Old Man. I’m begging you: just hear us out first, then you can kill us all you want!”

“Hey, idiot. . ! Don’t be such a profligate; value your life, already. Mine could do with a bit of valuing, speaking of which,” Sasuke complained.

“You’ve come to talk?” The general was skeptical. Sasuke was close to resigning himself to a life just barely off the ground, hanging by one disturbingly sturdy, branch-like appendage.

“Sure have,” Naruto nodded.

“The Land of Iron does not involve itself with shinobi business, Naruto. Regardless of history and personal favors, it doesn’t matter.” The general conveyed his own regard for Naruto by referring to him by his first name. They were old war-buddies, and the general had deep respect for it.

“What! So even talking is against the rules?”

“A private audience such as per your request might be interpreted as political in nature and I cannot therefore allow it.” Naruto sighed and rolled his eyes discourteously, interjecting:

“What’s private about standing in the hall!? There’s five guys behind us, hanging on to every word we say!” The sound of a dropped katana clattered to the floor when it slipped from its owner’s fumbling hands. Nervous coughing erupted out the five-headed assembly.

“. . .It’s actually not a hall; it’s a vestibule,” General Mifune mumbled ere that his unit quietly discussed terminology:

“It’s more like a foyer, if you ask me.”

“Maybe it’s a rather large vestibule?”

“Well, what’s the difference?”

“You think that’s important? If the general says it’s a vestibule, then that’s what it is.”

“I’m just saying: maybe he’s confused about some things.” A loud gasp was heard.

“Zounds!”

“It’s not a sword, at least! That’s for damn sure!”

“The mere thought!”

“Whatever. . !”

“Come on, General Old Man!” Naruto exclaimed, making a gesture of impatience toward Mifune who’d been prying on his subordinates’ vital debate. “You scared he’s gonna knock down yur pillars again? Cuz I won’t let him do that, ya know, not that he’d try it. Would you?”

“Seriously?” drawled Sasuke, who’d let his head fall back in limp surrender around the time Naruto started talking.

“We just came to talk because we could really use yur expertise on an important matter—recreationally speaking, that is.” The blonde beamed mischievous eyes as he so said, and Mifune was not blind to the purpose nor the detail. He snorted, half dismissal and half secret amusement.

“So, it is to banter, after all, that you’ve come?” Grinning, Naruto replied:

“Can you blame Ando-sensei for having powerful friends? Really?”

“Hm!” General Mifune laughed with all the dignity of his homeland’s demeanor, nobly restraining himself, that is. “You still speak like a fool, Naruto, but I suppose I won’t hold you to that either. Though I’m keeping my eyes on you, _Sensei_. Don’t fall out of line even to fart before counselling with me about it first.” Slowly releasing Sasuke unto solid ground, the blasé defendant offered a silent thumbs up and a smirk. Mifune sputtered. “You cocky little—!"

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just nervous.” Naruto interposed himself between the two and glared at his friend. Sasuke shrugged; he started checking his nails for dirt. They followed Mifune who’d begrudgingly turned and was leading them into the samurai hold.

Naruto, irritated, took Sasuke in a headlock and flicked him across the bridge of his nose—hard. The sound created was clearly heard and timed beautifully with Sasuke’s shout of pain.

“ _Gah_ —!" He cradled his nose and punched Naruto in the side, very much offended with him. Slipping out of his friend’s grasp, he was pulled right back by his hood.

“Knock it off. . !” hissed Naruto, swatting black hair forward so that it covered glowing red eyes.

“You knock it off. . !” retorted Sasuke. Tripping him, Naruto stumbled; and his clumsy feet caused a ruckus which made random constructional workers look curiously at the moving troop. Sasuke bit his cheek to try and not laugh while Uzumaki fought not to let loose his inner demon.

*

Naruto and Sasuke had come to the Land of Iron to seek assistance with their latest venture on Sasuke’s quest for self-control: lessons in swordsmanship with a master of the art. It had taken a long time and much due emotional development on his part to get to the point where he would see the use, but Sasuke had admittedly warmed to the idea of apprenticeship.

Their visit was meant like a vacation. Sasuke had internalized The Saddle and learnt that emergent properties are beyond human understanding; a realization which had thrown him into despair, and Naruto into another mission to rescue him from it. Because Sasuke was studying the body, trying to cure it of a disease, Naruto reasoned that swordsmanship would be a good parallel. To see Sasuke excited about anything besides numbers and practically scrying filled Naruto with hope.

He knew it would be difficult for his friend to commit to the break however, since Sasuke kept the book ever close by yet all the same wouldn’t talk about it. Naruto could see the cogs turning behind the vacant expression so often consuming his companion, and he wished so much to help him that he even made himself nauseous. For this reason, Naruto was laying down in a spare room of the samurai headquarters while General Mifune had Sasuke to himself.

*

“Stand up straight!” It hadn’t been easy getting his foot in the door; convincing General Mifune to tutor Uchiha Sasuke, the villain and scourge on his homeland, had been impossible.

“ _Tch_! I am!” Sasuke gripped his sword strenuously. With gritted teeth and shaking legs, sweat guttered down his bare back, tickling his spine in the groove of muscles and soaking into the waistband of his pants. He was angry, and Mifune saw it.

“You are when I say you are! Sword in front! You’re slipping again.” With overbearing adjustment the old general rearranged Sasuke’s posture. Although an apprenticeship had been out of the question, that is not to say the idea of torturing the arrogant man had met with the same cool reception. Sasuke responded to the insult with more anger. “You’ll never swing a blade correctly when you’re snaked around it like that. You’ve got to be firm! And your feet need to be closer together! For god’s sake, you look like you’re coming on to me!” Sasuke breached the distance between his heels, gaining height, losing weight and reddening all over. “Is that what you’ve come here to do?”

“Give me a break!” When speaking to a grand master, like Mifune, or even to a regular master, like Sasuke, of their expertise, all they will hear is ‘teach me your school.’ This is absolute, and this is why learning from a master can leave one stupider instead of better. The general was by this logic opposed to Sasuke’s entire relationship with sword art, and deemed his upside-down, single-handed, non-dominant and laterally fixed grip a catastrophe.

“No, I will not!” Mifune slapped the back of Sasuke’s head. “And put those demon eyes away or I’ll toss your sorry ass outside! Trust me—even the best fake name won’t be enough to let you back in then, and not your honorable friend either for that matter.” Albeit Mifune’s mission, as we have mentioned, was to torture the Uchiha heir—and this for a cause. Sasuke’s eyes snapped to the general’s furious staring, and he became nearly rigid at the mention of Naruto.

“ _M-hm_ —" Mifune nodded secretively “—that’s right. I don’t know you, but I know what you did. While I am willing to take into consideration the fact that you were a child, it hardly matters, Uchiha, because of what you’ve done being so despicable I would resent you were you my own son.” He watched the sweaty, pale figure before him, noting tension around the mouth and in the shoulders appear; he met with his own the narrow eyes which were glancing from side to side, and while he saw accountability there, he could not find any regret. Mifune pressed him further. “Your friend doesn’t see it that way for some reason, does he though?” Sasuke swallowed. “Someone like Naruto who was a captain in everything but title at seventeen, and secured his nation’s victory from the front lines in a matter of hours defines military excellence. I’m told he only ever fails to impress his superiors when it concerns one Uchiha Sasuke.” For a moment, Mifune waited for a change in Sasuke’s attitude. None, however, announced itself. “That young man is the laurel of your order and you are the mildew,” spat the general. He pointed at Sasuke. “I’m asking what it is you do to him!”

“What do I do?” Sasuke put his sword down. He picked up the sheath that had been laying on the floor nearby, and silently inserted the blade. It seemed that he was preparing to leave Mifune in the training hall, as he was glancing at his shirt, undecided as to whether he should pick that up too.

“Is it the sharingan? some genjutsu?” Mifune didn’t consider Sasuke any less of a threat even though he’d disarmed himself; actually, he was only wearier of him now, thinking that it was some sort of tactical ploy meant to lull him and make him lower his own guard. The general refused to do that.

Sasuke huffed, and shook his head at the air.

“Answer the question!” The young man gaped rudely at this provocation, displaying the type of laden surprise which is equally close to bursting with laughter as with anger, and that always results in one of the two.

“No!” he answered, too loudly. “I’m not using the sharingan on him! I’m not hypnotizing or threatening him or doing anything at all!” The general quickly approached and grabbed Sasuke’s arm, tugging him forward.

“Putting anything past the likes of you should be feared on its own,” Mifune hissed. “. . .Are you sleeping with him?” As by magic, Sasuke was vulnerably affected, and the old general very nearly laughed in his face. At last, he thought, I’ve got him! because regret had all at once broken through from the recesses of his captive, and was dancing across the stage of Sasuke’s failed deception, leaping in arabesque and spiraling ribbons.

Sasuke ripped his arm free, and Mifune’s nails happened to scrape his skin.

“You’re upset,” the general stated. “Was it supposed to be a secret?” He couldn’t keep a smile from forming on his lips.

“Bite me…!” Sasuke was backing away from him.

“Of course it was! But for him to go so far, and risk his career and reputation for your sake the poor boy must’ve fallen in love with you—for shame!—"

“No!”

“—Love can make even the best of us completely witless. ”

“Be quiet! For one demanding respect you sure love to stick your nose in things that’re none of your concern!—“

“Nonsense. I won’t be critiqued by a lawless ne’er-do-well.”

“—As for my sake, go ahead and say whatever you want but leave him out of it!”

“Spare me the false nobility!” roared General Mifune. “With regard for the Shinobi-Samurai agreement, it is decidedly of my concern indeed whether or not the future leader of Konoha is judgmentally sound; moreover, whether I’m looking at him right now.”

“You think I’m using Naruto as a means to control Konoha?” Sasuke appeared disgusted.

“I think that the shinobi have made a fatal mistake in letting you walk free; your intimacy with the future Hokage magnifies the suspicion that ought to be placed on you.”

“My relationship with that idiot spans from the time back when he was useless klutz; not to indulge you, general, but betting on him saving the world one day, all things considered, would’ve been the premonition of the century.”

“So, you struck gold,” Mifune waved off. “Let me make one thing clear, Uchiha—”

“ _Tch!_ ” Sasuke squeezed the sword in his hands and glared askance.

“—I’m not accusing you of plotting to usurp Konoha, but I am suspecting you because I’ve reasonable doubt.”

“I’ve already been to trial,” he responded. “Sorry to say: you missed it.”

“I want a fair trial. I intend to discuss things with Naruto, and you would be wise to worry that he seems sound to me.”

“You! You’re going to speak with him? Fine! Do it!” For an instant, the young man seemed to forget his own situation and shed any sign of a guard.

“I will get you, Uchiha, mark my words. For the people whose lives you’ve blackened, justice will find you in the end.” Mifune reasoned that Naruto would certainly agree with the samurai view on things if only it were discussed with him. In the case that he somehow didn’t agree, it could be explained as Sasuke’s manipulation having run too deeply, corrupting his senses. Mifune pictured the illustrious shinobi becoming humbled by his words, readily lowering his head in apology and bringing Sasuke to his knees before a podium. He was moved at the mental image and smiled. Unbeknownst to him, the possibility of a passionate and utter rejection of such a testimony had failed to make an impression on his mind. “You’re welcome to stay where you are; I much prefer to keep you in my sight,” he told Sasuke. “Here, I’ll even give you a proper lesson.” General Mifune drew his sword and readied it menacingly. Sasuke lay a bland stare on his onlooker and for a moment remained thus. Then he also prepared, holding his blade upside-down and in the wrong hand. Mifune’s expression darkened with annoyance. Sasuke smirked at him.

“I’ve nothing to gain from tricking stubborn old fools,” he said. “Do whatever you want. I’ve already a pretty good idea as to what’ll come out of your tete-a-tete.”

“You’re not the first to underestimate me—" With a snarl as of the flashing of guillotines, and the weight of the hardened mind evinced in the sound of his heel hitting the floor, dead-silent rancor spewed like spores from the bespoken murder trail at whose end the general continued to balance, and there, with a shroud of that same poisonous air about himself, precariously gesticulated at his own peril ‘there! there is the culprit!’ “—And you won’t be the last,” he declared. “Ready your blade! Show me how scum fight for their lives!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh--this chapter. I sat with it for a long time, let me tell you. You know that feeling you get when you read your old stuff, and you just want to edit it? then you read the same stuff again some months later, and edit it one more time?
> 
> Anyway, prologue's out of the way, now we're onto book 1!
> 
> I hope you had fun reading this :)


	6. Naruto's Prestige and the General's Plans for it

There was a knock at the door to the spare room that Naruto was currently laying down in. He was startled at the sound, and sat up in bed quickly. Being fully dressed, he went directly to the door.

“Uh—yes?” he said to the figure waiting outside. “I’m sorry. Can I help you?”

“Lord Uzumaki, your room has been prepared. If you would like to come with me, I’ll take you to it.” The messenger, obviously a samurai in full armor, bowed deeply to Naruto.

She had been selected to deliver this message and to escort General Mifune’s guest because she was herself most esteemed; this was a show of respect for Naruto. The name of this samurai is omitted, but her rank was first lieutenant.

Naruto took note of the pristine uniform she wore. It was obvious that the armor had recently been cleaned; the lacquered dark plates of the cuirass and guards reflected brightly the light of the lamps in the corridor. A crimson tassel, in the shape of a plus sign, was woven into the back of the cuirass. The messenger’s clothing were laundered, and the sash, which secured her sword at the waist, was of silk and the same color as the tassel. She wore no helmet at all. Naruto felt a shock of joy but would not accept the compliment for embarrassment’s sake, and so with an inward scoff he said nothing. He picked his and Sasuke’s bags up from the floor and stepped out of the room, closing the door. Then he gestured to the corridor, hoisted the bags on his shoulders and smiled politely.

“Thanks,” he said. “But—I’m not a lord, ya know.”

“All the same, my Lord. Please follow me.”

The messenger lieutenant led Naruto from the barracks, where the students and soldiers stayed, and through the complex. It was a remarkably big facility, much larger than anything Naruto was used to. The design of the building itself was practical, very much like a gigantic cement box, if one wishes to be blunt about it, three stories tall and housing compartments of varying sizes; these compartments being the rooms that made the cafeteria, the training locales, the barracks, the dormitory, lavatories, library and clinic as well as not a few repositories. The efficient design allowed for almost the entirety of the samurai HQ to exist within the same four walls, with the exception of the very large courtyard lying at the furthest point from the entry gates. All of this is not to say that the samurai were dead to esthetics; the windows and doorways were tastefully ornamented and the grand foyer was most impressive of all with its large, white columns—though it had been much more striking in the past.

Naruto eyed his new surroundings while he followed his escort, and made an effort not to appear quite so much like he’d been raised in a barn. He kept his drooping jaw locked and focused obstinately on his posture.

There were many people besides them whom they met along the way. Soldiers off duty and yet others on breaks or on their own routes were present in the complex, of course, many of which stared at Naruto when he walked by them next to his radiant guide. On the receiving end, he didn’t know how to handle being admired, like he hadn’t known either how to accept his formal escort. Naruto raised his hand in greeting and mumbled weakly: ‘hi’ to such spectators a few times, but it always led to them bending at the waist nearly ninety degrees, and because of it Naruto blushed and opted instead to watch his shoes.

“I didn’t think there’d be such a reaction just from my visiting,” he tried to joke away his discomfort. “Unless yer all just messing with me, that is.” The lieutenant, without deviating her gaze from the path she was threading, answered Naruto:

“The samurai and shinobi share a bond of mutual respect. There would’ve been no need if you were just anyone, my Lord.”

“Shit—I mean—I’ve been screwing up then, haven’t I? I knew I should’ve bowed back, ya know!” He threw an anxious glance over his shoulder, saying this.

“I’m afraid you’re misunderstanding me, my Lord. As a samurai, one does not bow to shinobi; however, for the savior of this world we hold special veneration.”

“Ah—" Naruto stuttered “—there you go again, calling me that. I really haven’t done anything that special.”

“I understand you’re something of a comedian, my Lord.”

“No, seriously, we were all lucky that time and—I had a lot’a help.”

“Forgive me, but may I speak frankly to you, my Lord?”

“What? _Ha_! Speak normally or whatever way you prefer, seriously, just stop with the ‘lord’ thing!”

“It is well then. Sir, you’re not used to ceremonial affairs, I take it.”

“I—don’t suppose I am.”

“Please, correct me if I’m wrong, but sir, it is an important part of a Kage’s tenure.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not a kage yet, ya know.”

“But you are legendary, sir, and very much like your predecessor besides; the Hokage doesn’t let anyone curtsy to him either.”

“ _Heh_ ,” Naruto chuckled. “Yeah, so I’ve heard.” His samurai escort here turned a funny smile toward him. Naruto didn’t think anything of it, only smiled back.

“Here we are at the cafeteria, sir. You’ll find that you are quite welcome to what we have available at your discretion, but it closes at ten so keep that in mind. Careful though, sir, you may just be made subject to one or two compliments inside.” She winked at him before turning once more on her heel and was waving her forefinger for Naruto to come along.

“Ya know I—I really like the—the ‘sir’ thing better. Thanks for being so cool.” The escort deigned to snort at this.

“I’m glad to have impressed you, sir, and I will continue to be here, at your convenience, if you have further need of anybody ‘cool.’ Now, to the left you’ll find the library, and to the right are the balconies where I will recommend the view as it is something grand—you’ll run into all sorts of folk there in the evening, sir. Further along you’ll find. . .” Naruto was thankful to be reassured in his deep-rooted embarrassment, and wondered privately how Sasuke was handling his own reception not likely to be in any way as welcoming. He also wondered how the general was treating him, and whether he shouldn’t throw The Saddle off the balconies while he had the chance.

*

Sasuke had not expected the general’s hostility. What he had expected was a grudge, perhaps even repugnance; he wouldn’t have been in any way shocked if he were accosted or abused. But to be prosecuted surprised him. He felt now unsure then harassed. He’d already been tried, and considering the lengths he’d gone to himself to enable the legal system’s prongs’ thorough examination of his body and soul, he felt that his past sins ought to be scorned but were otherwise finished with. General Mifune’s disavowal of Sasuke’s sentence, despite this, had the power to raise the young man’s resting introspection to its feet and have it be sniffing at the ground.

General Mifune’s sword clashed with Sasuke’s and sparks flew. Sasuke bounded away from his opposition.

He was seasoned beyond his years on self-contempt and doubt; others sharing in his own ideas of himself wasn’t particularly a burden on his conscience. But to be stimulated suddenly, ambushed in a sense, and thereby forced to reevaluate the precious few things he could be certain of was traumatizing to Sasuke.

Electricity materialized about his limbs and attuned to the spot where he stood, crackling loudly in visible arches. Mifune berated Sasuke’s lack of control, and Sasuke began exhaling smoke.

Aside from his degree of blameworthiness, Sasuke also knew with certainty that he needed Naruto. He’d made peace with their relationship as the scars on his shoulders advised; no matter how badly he wished to embrace his friend he absolutely couldn’t and would never. Sasuke had ruined Naruto’s trust and quite possibly a good piece of his sanity that day in the hospital, so long ago. It was Sasuke’s utmost offense.

“To think that a boy like you could’ve compelled a man of Naruto’s stature so absolutely, it needs be seen to be believed! Could it be true, Uchiha? To what despicable aim are you not satisfied already with what you’ve done?”

“And you! Is reproach for the young so vital to the old that you either deny or confirm maturity as it suits your whim? What a stupid insult! More importantly, you’ve no reason to indict me except for your own bias!” Sasuke made a cut on Mifune’s cheek. The general gasped from it and twitched.

Mifune was making light of what Sasuke and Naruto shared, and even accused his contender of seizing an immoral advantage afforded by Naruto’s feelings for him. The general was saying he’d speak with Naruto about his own misgivings and lay out plainly what he suspected Sasuke of, and to this scenario the young Uchiha was most especially intuitive. He knew it would confuse Naruto. He knew from experience and from sheer passion for the subject matter that what Mifune was about to do would short-circuit Naruto’s confidence in his friend. It must not come to be.

“I’ve reason enough! If you think I’m the only one left unfulfilled in terms of what’s to be done about you, you’ll be wise to the consequences in due time!”

“Hell—I’m just shaking!”

Sasuke thought that he must stop Mifune from speaking with Naruto. And if that entailed his knocking the old man out or racing him through the corridors of the samurai HQ, then so be it.

“You can’t stop what’s about to happen, Uchiha! Unless you’ll be wanting to confess, you won’t be getting in the way of mine and Naruto’s discussion.”

What was being further effaced by this ultimately unavoidable tide was Sasuke’s naïve ambition that he could spend his life, practically attached at the hip to Naruto, without ever having to soothe his aches and worries. Whether it was the wisdom that Mifune’s complaints shone on him or the trial itself of his combat, Sasuke was nevertheless in this moment enlightened. The time was come; he must now speak earnestly to him whose company he cherished, if he wished to remain in possession of it.

“Whatever things I’ve on my conscience to confess, believe me, they’re of no interest to you nor your rabid sense of justice! General, I wouldn’t be getting in your way if all at stake was just some luckless vendetta looking up; for Naruto’s wellbeing, I won’t let you upset him!”

“But the wagging of a forked tongue!”

“Yeah? Do you have any idea—what it’d do to him to hear the person he’s risked all he treasures in life for is just out to use him? Wait, don’t tell me; I can already guess the kind of bastard you are. I’m not admitting to it, but it would shock him and it would incapacitate him. How does that help your agenda!?”

Sasuke wanted to spare Naruto any suffering, but Fate already had this outcome in her hands as he was about to learn.

“A coward like you doesn’t understand fortitude,” Mifune spat.

“You don’t understand Naruto!”

“If you try to sabotage mine seeing him, I’ll be taking it as your formal confession!“ At the closing of these words, Mifune struck Sasuke just beneath the breastbone. Having perceived the opportunity at the young man’s stagger, he now drooped unto his knees with a pale look on his face. The general put his foot to Sasuke’s shoulder and pushed him unto his back, then levelled his sword at him. “Wouldn’t Naruto also find that suspicious?” he added. “If you’re innocent, surely, you’ve no reason to worry; he would agree with that.” Sasuke glowered and gasped in pain. With the truth of the situation dawning, he understood that he couldn’t concuss the general no more than he could race ahead of him in order to secure Naruto’s love. It had been a foolish impulse made plain by Mifune’s outspokenness; this was become a game of incrimination, that of a varying grade where Sasuke would decide the severity.

He had two choices: either he (A) refuses to be detained and thus induces a full-scale battle between himself and the samurai, looking extremely suspicious to Naruto, or he (B) concedes to be detained a while, and thus is rendered suspicious to Naruto but not nearly as suspicious as he would’ve been given outcome A.

Knowing that this battle would not lead to bloodshed if he didn’t instigate, he made no effort to rise or escape; he was caught.

“I’m worried about _him_ ,” Sasuke pressed miserably.

“I hope, for his sake, that you’ve not interfered somehow with his capabilities; regardless of which, you two must separate. Don’t move from where you are, Uchiha. I don’t trust you not to make a stab at my life.” Mifune sheathed his sword carefully, without taking his eyes off of Sasuke. He then made a foul grimace and turned, walking away from him. “Someone will be with you shortly. You will not go from this room until given leave, unless you’re looking to really upset your so-called friend.”

Sasuke struck the floor with both fists and cursed bitterly.

*

That evening, Naruto ventured the balconies. He felt brave, not in small part due to his escort’s reassurance, and had therefore taken his dinner in the cafeteria with the samurai. He had first intended to send for his meal and eat it privately, shy as he was, but had changed his mind and was at this time excited at the admiration with which he was of a sudden regarded. Hiding under a hood for so long had altogether isolated Naruto from his own legend.

The samurai were in their off-hours, in t-shirt and sweats, unthinkably even more forward with their guest of honor. They’d swarmed his table, offered to pay for his meal (which Naruto had refused), joked and praised and sang him to high heavens—so lively was their excitement. Naruto had choked on his grilled potatoes from the glee and feverish astonishment that yet filled him.

Now, as we have related, he was standing at the balconies, and it is further added that the sky was dark. Naruto couldn’t wait to tell Sasuke all about his fascinating day. He gripped the wide, stone railing tightly in his hands and smiled. Though it was cold out, he was much too excited to feel the need of his cloak; his heart was pounding. That was when Mifune joined him.

“Naruto! I see you’ve found only the single most scenic spot in all the place! Good on you!” The general was speaking cheerfully, and when he’d suddenly grabbed his shoulder it had made Naruto jump. His elbow lifted into the air, and the blonde stared for a bewildered second at he who’d surprised him. They were both soon laughing however, and the general patted Naruto’s back while the young man took a deflated attitude, feigning relief. “Careful!” Mifune exclaimed. “Don’t they teach you people to look first?”

“Luckily they do! ‘Check if it’s grandma.’ _Christ_!” Naruto let his head loll back and he leaned far thereward, his grip renewed on the railing.

“Well, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it was my bad.” He stood up straight again with a lighthearted bounce.

“Do you know—" the general began, setting his elbows down on the stone and crouching together in preparation of the altogether secret thing he was to relay “—I like to come here, myself. It’s an old habit. See the mountains there?” He pointed covertly at a section of the grand chain which bordered three sides of the complex. Naruto saw. The mountains were jagged and snowy. The peaks concealed themselves in the far-off darkness above and about. “At night it’s impossible to make out, and during the day it’s quite the same for the snow and the wind, but there’s a passage just there where I’ve stationed a post. In the event of an attack from that direction my men will light a fire for me, and I’ll be able to spot it from here.” Naruto engaged the general in his simmering pleasure, and he nodded at him like he was very impressed. Mifune appeared satisfied with this reaction, and turned his growing augustness to the mountains.

“Have they ever lighted it?” Naruto asked him.

“ _Hm_?” The general blinked a few times. “Oh. Sure they have. And I’ve always seen it. Naruto, the truth is I’ve come to discuss a matter with you.” With reluctance, he turned back around but kept his left hand on the railing, drumming the fingers, and with his right hand perching, bird-like, on the hilt of his sword. The ambivalence of war and peace was thereby visible in old Mifune, and Naruto saw it as clearly as he did the landscape behind him.

“Have you? Not the post then, I assume.” Naruto winked in good humor, and Mifune smiled.

“Not the post, son, unfortunately it’s of something far more rudimentary.”

“ _Hmm_ —go on.”

“Your friend. The Uchiha.” Mifune made a pause, and Naruto’s expression hardened in increments. He was being looked at with the sort of mundane concern which is afforded the younger generation by the older, and is at once equally endearing as it is infuriating to the junior.

“What about him?” Naruto leaned backward anew, holding fast to the railing and with his eyes down.

“Has he made any—announcements? concerning his accompanying you?”

“Announcements?” Pronouncing the word was to Naruto like biting a lemon. “Of what kind?”

“You two arrived here alone so you’re travelling thus. I say so because I know even you shinobi couldn’t survive in this climate for more than a few hours at most; that accounted for, it’s been a full day and you’ve let him loose on the complex with all the confidence typically reserved for a Kage’s right-hand man. Is this wise?”

“First of all,” Naruto said after a moment of rhetorical silence. “I think yer underestimating the shinobi; not that yer wrong about us being alone; we are. Second: with all due respect, General Old Man, but you don’t know Sasuke. I figure yer still upset about the Kage Summit, which I get, but he was like seventeen then, ya know.”

“And yet that frail age didn’t deter yourself from performing admirably.”

“Yeah, but I’m me and he’s Sasuke; everybody’s different. The point is: kids act crazy and it’s to be expected. Nobody should be punished for crimes they committed in their adolescence eternally. That would actually be crazy.”

“With that I agree, but shouldn’t offenders be punished in some form even though they’re in their adolescence?” Naruto turned his face quickly at Mifune. His expression was tight and forbidding.

“You don’t think that Konoha punished him? No offence, but how much do you know about shinobi procedure?”

“I know that it’s standard, by the Daimyous’ law, that when a criminal is dealt with, themselves and all related parties are informed on the crimes committed as well as on why those crimes are punishable. The criminal is then made to atone by those responsible for them, their home-nation or hidden village, as the case may be, in an effort to soothe the injuries those victimized by the criminal have suffered. Isn’t that so even to shinobi?” The general mystified Naruto and his implicit criticism was made a worse surprise by the confidence with which he delivered it, setting Naruto’s blood boiling before he’d even learnt what it was all about. Although, he could make a good guess.

“Just say what you came to tell me.” Carefully hiding his approval, he acknowledged Mifune’s bandaged cheek.

“The wounds of the affected party were never soothed, Naruto. Think about it. It’s not my intention to insult you or Konoha, but bring to light a matter I think maybe wasn’t handled at optimum. I think we can do this peacefully, don’t you? Uchiha defected from Konoha. I understand this alone is punishable by death among shinobi; it’s the same with samurai. He then, upon failing to be captured, joined the notorious Akatsuki, enemy of the entire Godaikuni, and attacked the Hidden Cloud; I can only too well imagine this is how they lost their jinchuuriki. Then, the list doesn’t stop, he, in the face of impending war brought on by his faction, saw fit to attack also the Kage summit, ignoring the fact that it was being held in a neutral nation even. Once there, _here_ , he slaughtered twenty-four samurai, orphaning as many children and spouses. He mutilated the Raikage; attacked the Kazekage, the mizukage and the tsuchikage; then proceeded to run the Hokage-nominee out of the building, pursued him and murdered him before vanishing yet again, failing to be captured until he reemerged some time later on the side of Akatsuki during the war. I have it on good authority he appeared quite maniacal. Are these the crimes one pays for with only a few short months of ‘shinobi procedure’ before being set free and given the friendship of Konoha’s crown prince?” It was then that Naruto began to whisper.

“They are the crimes paid for—” he began “—by risking everything in the effort to save the lives of every remaining person in the Godaikuni.” He couldn’t look at the general at the risk of losing himself in anger, so Naruto showed him stubbornly his profile while he answered the address. The general was obliged to lean in closer to hear him. “I get that you doubt him and I don’t blame you. But—he’s proven to be an ally; proven it to the hidden villages and to the great nations. You don’t have to, but you can trust him.” A shadow passed over Mifune’s being.

“All I hear by what you’re telling me—is that his intentions were somehow purified. However,” the fingers of his right hand tensed on the hilt while the fingers of his left ceased drumming. “Intentions alone are not by which means we hold each other accountable. He hasn’t, in fact, proven himself to the Land of Iron.” Naruto stomped his foot. He ran his hands furiously through his hair and presented his back. After a minute he returned, with complexion reddened but his manner fierce.

“God damn it,” he said. “Is it evidence yer after? pictures from his detainment with the Torture Division? Yeah? I’m Konoha’s prince, wasn’t it? Speaking of princeliness, I couldn’t stand what they did with half the dignity he withstood it. By that I mean: he’d be the first to tell you he’s done despicable things, not for bragging but to hurt himself. It’s the whole reason I worry so much for him, ya know, and it proves he’s a gentle person!” Suddenly, responding to what he’d himself said, Naruto grew pale. He looked around himself urgently and searched the view of the panoramic indoors, the balconies and lastly the gaping drop at his feet. At the end of this brisk attack, he licked his lips and asked Mifune with only the memory left of the command which his former tone had held: “Where’s Sasuke?” Gruesome imagery had come to him like a shower of hail. Had Mifune harmed Sasuke in some way already? Would he dare it? “I trusted you; have you done something to him?” The general, at the same time, had performed an inspection of his own while Naruto was preoccupied; the result of which sat like an iron mask before the warm countenance which had previously bared itself, now shut away by a scowling disappointment which admonished and retaliated.

“You may remain, Naruto, in your trust of me,” the general coldly replied. “I’ve not hurt your friend, at least, not seriously. He’s probably back in your room by now. I think he’s waiting to talk with you as well.”

“Then I gotta go to him!” Naruto rustled with movement and started for the entry, but was interrupted by the general’s altered voice:

“Wait a second!” it said. “We’re not quite finished yet.”

“What else could you possibly wanna say to me?”

“What I wish to say,” Mifune took the young man’s shoulders in his hands and gazed him in the eye, pleadingly. “Is my express hope that you use your best judgement. Consider your position and consider his. Isn’t it the least bit peculiar how advantageous it is to him to nurture this intimacy you two share? He’s right behind the throne of Konoha; think on that.” Naruto dislodged and walked toward the doors of the balconies, shaking his head. Mifune’s dissuasion followed: “Someone like him,“ it spoke. ”I understand the way one might be inclined to look at him, if they could put aside the dreadful things he’s guilty of; his mother must’ve been a marvelous woman.” Naruto stopped. “Just be aware, that physical comfort is the oldest trick in the book, son.” He didn’t know whether it was best to deny the general’s unthinkable insinuations or not. This dilemma at heart, he turned slowly and stared at Mifune with brows wrinkling his very scalp.

*

Mifune allowed Naruto to storm off. The samurai in the corridor, visible through the glass panes which separated the balconies from the indoors, were noticeably startled by his furious charging by them. They were almost diving to get out of his way.

The old general pursed his lips and knit his fingers together. He rested his back on the railing.

Naruto’s rejection had shocked him completely, so much so that Mifune had had to literally hold on to himself to avoid hitting the fool. Naruto wasn’t one of his soldiers; unfortunately, he couldn’t beat the stupidity out of him.

Having counted on Naruto’s cooperation, what must he do now instead? If it had been himself. . .as it in fact once had been, long ago when he’d taken the rank of General, Mifune wouldn’t for his honor have allowed any threats to the power vested in him, trusting only himself to do right by it. But Naruto was different; he was arrogant.

“ _Bah_!” The general understood he hadn’t made himself an enemy quite yet; there was hope for his investigation still. His large cloak flourished as he repostured to inspect the mountains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I hope you had fun :)
> 
> The homestretch kicks my ass every time; I'm only half sure what time it even is right now.
> 
> This story will be finished, for anyone enjoying it :P It's already done, actually, but I'm re-writing the first chapters because they were written before I knew what the story was about. I hope you'll like it once the piece is all out there.


	7. Ruling Fairness out of the Room: a Preparation to Escape

It was ridiculous, Naruto thought.

That demented old general didn’t know a thing about Sasuke except maybe for his record—the gossiped about alteration at that. There was no question: Sasuke was certainly guilty of the things which even the general had come to hear of, showing that they’re no secrets in the first place (and probably every chatterbox in the Five Great Nations knew about them too) but his punishment was through since a long time ago. Sasuke had paid for his crimes and Naruto had every right to travel with him in whatever way he liked. Blaming him, therefore, ought to be really shameful! There was nothing further to be said on the matter.

The general was a coot who for lack of excitement in his life made up reasons to get his blood pumping. He’d been shut up and looking out for any kind of battle-signal too long. It had ruined his health, obviously, and Naruto for one refused to indulge it.

Naruto was now near the door to his room. He could see it just a few steps ahead.

It wasn’t until he’d come this far that he thought to slow down and really consider things. If he opened that door, he could well guess what would happen. Sasuke would be somewhere beyond it, waiting to speak with him like the general had said. He’d probably look up from some meaningless work, meant merely as a way of distracting himself in the meantime, and he’d stare at Naruto the second he’d walk in, demanding, in that way of his, reassurance that all was as usual and he wouldn’t have to strain himself with some courtship until Naruto’s rekindled affection would give him sign to relax. It’s what he wanted every time Naruto was unhappy; it was a routine; and for the first time Naruto didn’t want to do with it. In fact this time, he couldn’t stomach even the idea of reconciliation before he’d had chance to think.

With his hand hanging in the air, Naruto huffed and turned away for his new mission toward someplace where he could sit and think, but he was halted immediately by the surprise of a crowd having formed and followed him out of dumb curiosity. Every cheek present reddened in this moment; although the pursuers’ from shame, Naruto’s did from annoyance.

With a single barking word, and his hand still up like he was shielding his eyes from the glaring sun or from something horrific, he fled into the room that was, after all, his.

“Don’t!” He slammed the door shut because he couldn’t suppress the anger that both strengthened his body and clouded his head.

The room he’d been given was modest. Naruto hadn’t thought much of it when he’d seen it before, but he liked it decidedly less now. It was 20 m2 large and frugally equipped. From Naruto’s position by the door he could see that in the wall ahead of him, on the thither side, was fitted a window through which the black night loomed; to his right was a cased opening which showed just half of the tiny space beyond it; and to his left was another door, flimsy and standing ajar.

The opening led to a very small study, not 3 m2. It was a right cabinet which despite its laughable size enjoyed a second little window, which was a remarkable luxury to the samurai. The leftward door let into the bathroom.

As for the furnishing, a queen-sized bed sat opposite the door Naruto had entered through, with steel-barred headboard to the wallpaper and with dark bedding, the detergent of which filtered the room. There was a dresser with nothing on top of it at the western wall. The same gloomy blue which was dyed the sheets and quilts furthermore was also the color of the long curtains, both of the windows as well as the cased opening’s railed drapery. This drapery was currently undrawn. The carpet under the bed, and the smaller one under Naruto’s feet, were hemp. In the study was a chair, a nightstand converted to coffee table, and a small bookcase—these things took up the entire unit. What was in the bookcase was regrettably all nonsense, because the samurai couldn’t spare any of their own literature on a guestroom but they referred any visitors to the library instead. In the ceiling of the bedroom and of the study sat one fluorescent tube lamp per section. This was Naruto’s and Sasuke’s sole sources of light after nightfall, and the hum produced by these fixtures was constant and impossible to ignore.

Sasuke had jumped when Naruto suddenly appeared, his reclined position on the bed obliterated in an explosion of limbs at the same time that he quickly tucked something away under his pillow. Naruto didn’t need to look for knowing what it was. He went to his backpack which stood leaning to the bedframe on the floor, and he began rummaging around in it for his toothbrush.

A thought struck him at having done this: kneeling at Sasuke’s feet, as he was, did it not suggest a certain compliance? This insight humiliated Naruto given his current mood, and he therefore sighed excessively to prove how opposed he was.

“Looking for something?” Sasuke’s voice was neutral, like he couldn’t care in the slightest whether or not Naruto might at any second flip over the mattress he himself was seated on. Naruto heard the concern clear as a bell however and avoided answering him. “There’s food put into the uh—study or whatever. I had it brought. Figured you’d be hungry.”

“Where’s my toothbrush?” Naruto snapped, not in the mood for eating.

“Well, how should I know? I haven’t taken it.”

“It’s gone somewhere.” Naruto rose powerfully. His fingertips were tingling with unbidden chakra formation, and made him rub his palms against the front of his jacket while he looked around the room. Sasuke inspected him up and down.

“Have you checked the bathroom?” asked he, unsuspectingly blowing the trumpet for and signaling a warlike charge. The bathroom door was thrown open, hitting the dresser so hard that the panel vibrated. Sasuke jumped for the second time.

“I just got here, didn’t I!?”

“I don’t keep tabs on you!” This irritated comment made an impression alright, so that Naruto forgot to be angry but was suspicious instead. Sasuke regretted his words right away. He could see Naruto’s face in the mirror over the sink as the change came over him. He was making the sort of expression people as a sort do not show one another for anything but the best reason: a full contortion of the features, tight with disgust. Naruto didn’t know, of course, that Sasuke could see anything other than the back of him; but the fact that Sasuke could, impressed upon him like his own clumsy choice of words did on Naruto. Sasuke lowered his head; he picked at his nails; he was hurt.

“I don’t like that they went in my stuff. I keep private things in there,” Naruto said, applying toothpaste to his recovered utensil and sticking it in his mouth.

“I didn’t do it,” Sasuke testified.

“I didn’t say ‘you.’ I said ‘they.’”

“You know what I mean.” Naruto counted the seconds before he’d summoned the required strength to not be persuaded by that miserable sentence. Three seconds (but hours long) passed, and during which time Naruto was biting down on the bristles.

“No shit, you didn’t!” he replied with some force. Then he shut the bathroom door to escape.

*

The bathroom was bright white tile—all of it was. The sink was tile, the shower, and the toilet too. It was like a landscape because Naruto couldn’t quite decide whether it looked big or small in all its sameness, and it might as well have been going on forever in every direction. Even the inside of the door had a plaster which imitated tile.

In the middle of it all floated the mirror. Naruto’s reflection stared at him with wide, watery eyes and flaring nostrils. His blonde hair stood on end somehow worse than normally. Noticing that he and his likeness were the only dashes of color in the room, Naruto became disturbed at the contrast and the face in the mirror didn’t seem like his own anymore. The way that it glared into the bathroom at him like through a window made his skin crawl. Suddenly he felt very hot.

Naruto wasn’t angry with Sasuke—this is important to know. He was angry with himself because he partly agreed that they shouldn’t travel together, indeed, that he shouldn’t even know Sasuke.

The orange-and-black jacket he wore along with the dark, long sleeved t-shirt underneath felt warm and sweaty. He wrung out of his jacket and threw it on the floor, then forced his sleeves to the nooks of his arms. It was a little better but he didn’t want to look in the mirror again. The room fell into silence with his stillness.

Naruto bent toward the wall. He put his elbow to it and rubbed his forehead. At length, he only brushed his teeth.

Sasuke was quiet too, on the other side of the wall. He was demonstrating a skill. He could be exquisitely patient with the things he wanted, and it should’ve made Naruto happy to be treated to this rare effort but it only reminded him of Sasuke’s meagre endurance when applied to such things—the very cause behind Naruto’s pain in this moment.

Why? Because that weakness in his friend had motivated his every cruelty.

Again: Mifune was a fool to think that Naruto could separate from Sasuke by any simple logic. Naruto recognized that he must explain himself, but he struggled to do so.

A word on Sasuke’s weakness. His reserve for mental strength was malformed: it had sprung a leak in childhood, and upon depletion in the adult, with its echo it possessed him so that he had eventually developed a habit of panicked deviltry.

A devil! No! Before Naruto could formulate, even in his own mind, a hard word concerning Sasuke, it was a must that he showered him with praise. This process sometimes overloaded him and he would then weep—a secret equal in completeness to the pain his love caused him.

Naruto leant over the sink, spat out the toothpaste, rinsed off the brush and put it away. The plastic handle to crystal tinkled. His back under cotton on the porcelain wall whispered as he slid down it. He drew his knees up. Worried that Sasuke could hear him, Naruto gasped and looked at the door but nothing happened.

Sasuke was generous, Naruto began to reason for himself. With his possessions, with his requirements, with his love especially Sasuke would give frivolously if he didn’t stop himself—it was why he hurt so badly. He wanted to give away his trust and admiration to anyone willing to take him into their arms, which was many people on account of his beauty. Naruto knew this and it was the praise he recited.

He did have every right to travel with him.

Naruto’s critique was comparatively hard, as we have said. And it followed: Sasuke was a man, an old child. This state of having matured, as a piece of evidence, was severe.

Sasuke had survived his own fragile nature not with the power to withstand it (as was expected of him) but with thanks to the strategy designed by the terrified and the abused. That strategy illegitimately justified him; it let him smile in the shadow of misfortune because he himself was unhurt. Sasuke would attack, full of spite, at the hint of even a friendly invitation because an invitation was an attack to him. In its mildest form, this strategy which can be referred to as self-defense came in the form of rudeness, but at its most severe it transported him to the farthest end off the innocent soul he possessed. He had thus murdered—it can be said that Sasuke was a murderer.

Naruto understood this well and was alright with it. He could rationalize it so far that he could even forgive it; and so Naruto’s critique of Sasuke was really the condemnation of himself, because he blessed with a golden seal precisely all of Sasuke’s history.

He told himself: ‘I do have every right to love him.’

*

A light knocking was heard coming from above Naruto’s head and he looked at it, all surprise. He wasn’t angry anymore; shame alone had survived his introspection. Standing up, he put his nose to the door and asked in a quiet voice:

“What is it?”

“If you want me to go then I will,” Sasuke was heard replying. “Just listen for a minute. I don’t know what Mifune said to you exactly, but you need to hear it from me at least once so pay attention: I did use you once. But it wasn’t for a stupid reason like manipulating your future rule of Konoha, as I’m sure you know I wouldn’t, if you’d just think about it. It was—that time in camp, remember? Even though I knew why it’s hard for you to say ‘no,’ I didn’t care and I made an advantage of it then. And what I put you through. . .I’m sorry it took me three years before even mentioning it; I know it’s been on your mind. But to tell you the truth, it’s taken so long because it’s something I still think about too; I haven’t forgotten it either. I’m very sorry, Naruto, and you know you don’t have to forgive me.” For a minute there was only silence. Then Sasuke spoke again. “So—I’ll go. If you’ve no objections to that, just stay behind that door.” Naruto turned the handle straight away as he simply had to. Stepping out, he bent his focus down on Sasuke’s head.

“You’ll do no such thing, so help me God, asshole,” he commanded. Sasuke looked taken aback. He put his hands in his pockets and lowered his face. Naruto noted how he was, in fact, dressed to leave.

“You feeling any better now?” Spoken in a voice which could only be described as ‘meek,’ it was strange to hear it coming from such a person as Sasuke.

“I feel like absolute shit if you must know.”

“That figures. So, I take it you don’t want me to leave but give you some answers, right? What do you want to know?”

“Be quiet—"Naruto moved passed his companion and took him by the shoulders on the way, forcing him to perform a sort of backwards tap-dance until he was manhandled on to the bed “—Sit. Now look at me.” Sasuke did as instructed. He sat obediently looking up at his oldest of friends.

For a considerate moment, Naruto gazed down into that white face as if a divine prophecy might spring from it and counsel him. Naturally, Sasuke was as patient as the virtues and Naruto received no insights.

“I’ve only one question, but—ya know, as punishment for that time in camp, I won’t tell you.” That was: ‘one day, could you forgive me too?’ and it took center stage on Naruto’s conscience. He was still convinced he’d left a deep scar on his friend in the hospital, a scar which crippled him.

“Oh, how productive,” Sasuke puffed.

“Yer not going anywhere. At least not without me.” Naruto wouldn’t suffer the humiliation of remaining under the roof of he who’d tried to take Sasuke from him. To this purpose he began readying their bags, lifting them up on the mattress and examining their contents. “We’re both leaving right now, so grab yur stupid book.” Sasuke started and crinkled his brow.

“I would’ve gotten it if you hadn’t come out!—“ he began.

“Sure you would.”

“—Don’t say that! I was trying to be considerate! If I didn’t talk to you first, you’d hear me pack my things and then think I’d piss off in secret!”

“Instead you hint that you don’t wanna go, and was hoping, in secret, that I’d stop you, which I have, haven’t I? Be happy!”

“Fine! But damn it! Hold on!” Sasuke stood up, and he made short work of the distance between himself and his friend. Tugging on Naruto’s shoulder, he retracted his hand quickly upon seeing that it had somehow managed to startle him. “You’re sure you want to leave right now? In a fit?”

“I’m not having a fit, I’m just upset!” Naruto said, resuming the exploration of their packs and ticking off a mental list. “Yer the one who’s been accused, shouldn’t you be helping me?”

“Well, I’m not as picky with my hosts as you are! I’ve been treated worse by the much worse, and it’s never scared me away.”

“Whatever! See, you can tell yurself this is about who’s more alpha if you want but we’re still leaving, ya know!” At this comment, Sasuke took the bag Naruto had been clawing through away from him. He swung it in the direction of the little black window and pressed:

“Put your face to the glass and look outside! You may not see it, but I do; there’s a blizzard coming. Leaving now would be like slitting our own throats!” Finished, he dropped the bag on the floor. Naruto grumbled and did as Sasuke had asked.

“I don’t see anything,” he reported.

“No wonder! I’m telling you it’s snowing and it’s going to get worse.” Sasuke came and he too bent forward at the window. Peering outside, his eyes blinked red a few times before steadying to a keen glow.

The sharingan, with its mysteries, still managed to surprise Naruto, who thought that Sasuke must to a certain extent be able to see in the dark; furthermore, that extent must be impressive. It didn’t appear to trouble him that the light was on and both of their reflections visible in the glass like in a mirror. Though it eclipsed Naruto’s own chance at defining the world outside their room, Sasuke’s refracted form beside him could confidently foretell a warning.

“I wanna see too,” Naruto decided. “I’ll get the light.”

“So, it’s true: you don’t believe me! Why don’t you go outside and see for yourself, and leave me here if I’m so untrustworthy!?”

“I do too believe you! I just wanna be sure, ya know.”

“If you believed me you would be sure, Naruto.” The blonde stopped mid-stride. He felt a pang of hurt at Sasuke’s sadness, and thought that he couldn’t bear it after all.

“Then I’m sure,” he said slowly. “If you say it’s snowing then it’s snowing. Who am I to argue with the Uchiha’s sharingan?” He didn’t like to wait, but acknowledged that it was imperative he listened to Sasuke now unless he wanted to seriously hurt him. “Speaking of, how is it? Does it hurt?” He tried to show that he still cared how his friend was feeling.

“No, it doesn’t.” The light of the sharingan flickered into extinction, and though he contradicted it Sasuke hissed in pain. “It’s just heavy. I can’t explain it too well, but it’s like a weight on my mind and I have to strain myself to overcome it. For every second I use it, the burden gets heavier. That’s what it feels like.”

“And the rinnegan? It’s still. . ?”

“ _Gone_. Forget about it. Maybe if I ever get better, it’ll return. As I am, I’m no better than this.”

“You’ll get better! You will!”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t doubt it; we’ll find a way! Ya know, I’ve been thinking—maybe—since we’re leaving and we have to go _some_ where—it’s about time we go back?” Naruto could hear the other man’s breath halt, and he hurried to add: “I don’t mean ‘abandon our mission!’ but rather make full circle and see if our own can’t help. I know! I know you really don’t want to involve other ninja even less than you wanna go home, but it’s been six years now! What’s the harm really at this point?”

“. . .You just want to leave the complex, don’t you?”

“I—! Will agree to wait until first light, okay—if!—if you agree to go home.”

“The blizzard may last through the night, maybe even for days. I’m not setting my foot outside before I know it won’t kill me, and neither are you, Mr. Survival-Expert!”

“Sasuke, if it’s snowing like crazy even tomorrow at dawn, I’ll drag you by the ears or tear them off, alright?” The raven-haired runaway sighed wearily, and ran his hand through his hair.

“We’ll see,” he grumbled.

“We can’t stay here, not under Mifune Old Man’s roof. He’s made it overly clear that we can’t. It’ll be okay, Sasuke. We’ll be fine. And you’ve agreed to go home now, remember?”

“I think I’d not forget something like that—which explains why I’ve no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Sasuke. Your ears. Off. I’m not kidding, ya know. You should get to bed; it’s late and we’ll be up early.”

“What about you?” Sasuke, looking much calmer than he had, only now took off his cloak; and he dropped it after some consideration on top of his bag then pushed the bag to the side of the bed. Naruto looked at him thoughtfully.

“I need a shower—”

“Good, you’ve noticed,” smiled Sasuke.

“—Shut up! I’ll get my sleeping bag out.”

“There’s plenty of room in bed. Or do you expect me to fuss with you on the floor?”

“No, there’s no sense in both of us passing up on the bed, is there? I’m a gentleman, ya know, willing to sacrifice my own comfort for yer sake so you should thank me properly. _Hehe_!” Naruto reached over his own head and behind himself, taking hold of his shirt and pulling it off. It slipped free with a rustle and a sound of broken tension, and his wild hair flared.

“You’re being ludicrous.” Sasuke’s focus flew to the ceiling for some reason.

“First light!” Naruto reminded him, walking to the bathroom and tossing his shirt so that it draped around Sasuke’s head. It was removed with panicked fingers and a loud stutter, then Sasuke’s face reappeared, looking like he’d had a block of ice put down his tunic. His mouth babbled mutely and the blonde happened to smile at seeing it. He hurried into his retreat.

“Wait,” Naruto then heard. “Wait!” So he popped his head out only from behind the panel.

“What?” he wondered when Sasuke didn’t say anything.

“There’s something I still have to say.”

“There is? Can’t it wait until morning? We’ll be walking all day; let’s say it then.”

“No, wait!”

“ _Jeez_! What’s going on?” Sasuke was staring. After a while like this, Naruto scratched his nose, suppressing a smile. He then wagged a finger at his companion’s clenching fists. “You can let go of my shirt, ya know,” he told him, flattered. Sasuke tossed the shirt on Naruto’s pack like it was on fire, and the blonde snorted.

“Forget it. I’m not in a hurry, I guess. Besides, I don’t much feel like telling you anymore.”

*

“Telling me what, bakasuke?” Sasuke saw that Naruto was beginning to relax at last; his being was becoming limpid like the sky clearing of rainclouds.

It was hope and love stirring awake after a fierce blow which in the end could not have killed them. Although Uchiha was unaware of these particulars, he nonetheless could breathe easier and was glad.

“Just that I— _screw it_ —I’m happy you decided to stop me,” he admitted. “And thank you—for trusting me to wait. It means a lot.”

“I’ve made you happy. . ? Be careful saying those things to me, or I’ll start acting ludicrous for real, ya know!” Naruto quickly vanished into the bathroom, and Sasuke remained in the room alone. He looked at the shirt he’d tossed, and then at the door that had just shut. His pulse was racing as a faint smile pulled on his lips.


	8. Mifune's Final Offer

Naruto and Sasuke were woken the next day by a firm knocking at their door. When Naruto heard it he lifted his head up from his pillow, and with a deep breath he looked from the door to Sasuke who was already sitting up in bed and watching him blearily. Naruto stood from his own bedding on the floor and answered the knocking. Outside was a familiar person: the lieutenant escort from the previous day.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Sir Uzumaki. The General Mifune would like to extend for his guests an invitation and a special welcome; there will be held at a quarter to nine in the courtyard a celebratory display in your honor, as well as breakfast at seven o’clock, sir.”

“What? What time is it?” Naruto was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and could not much appreciate the repetition of glamorous formality which was being expressed by the soldier’s uniform and manner.

“It is presently two hours before sunrise; six-forty-five, sir.”

“ _Ugh_! And you wake me up? I thought for sure the place ought’a be coming down if I’m woken before the sun, ya know. Besides, I’ve got my own plans—"

“He’ll be there,” interrupted Sasuke from behind Naruto’s back. The messenger at the door had a look of surprise wash over her and tilted to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of he whom had spoken.

“My Lord Uchiha,” said she. Naruto threw a glance his way, and saw Sasuke raise his hand in acknowledgement but his mouth stiffly downturned.

“Yeah, hi,” he answered in an undertone.

“I will be pleased to report back to my commander that we may expect you, sir.” Naruto sighed, and sorted through his yet drowsy mind before saying:

“It’s snowing, right?”

“A fair amount of snow has come down during the night, sir, and there is yet no sign of letting up.” Naruto here resisted the urge to look at Sasuke, knowing there was a smug smile shining over his shoulder at this moment. “The weather will not hinder in any way our demonstration, sir, rest assured.”

“I wasn’t—worried about yur thing,” Naruto said. He then took hold of the top of the doorframe, in this way blocking any significant view of the inside of his room. Groaning in satisfaction, he stretched his arms and chest slowly. Sasuke clicked his tongue at him. The soldier took a step back and bowed, laughing quietly.

“I take it you will have no need of me at this time?” she asked.

“You take it right,” answered Naruto.

“Then I wish you both a pleasant morning, sir. Lord Uchiha.” Sasuke did not reply and Naruto shut the door as soon as the soldier began to move, her glinting armor a flashing light in his periphery.

“Whadda bunch of suck-ups they are!” he exclaimed, looking expectantly at Sasuke. He, in turn, shrugged.

“I figured you’d be into that kind of thing.”

“What? Ass kissing?”

“ _Hm_! Sure.”

“As if. ‘My Lord, this,’ and ‘my Lord, that!’ It’s like we don’t even have real names, ya know.”

“Stop. It’s just a formality; they’re well aware what our names are. Just like they are, I’m sure, all aware you secretly love being fawned over: these people aren’t stupid.”

“Yer stupid.” Sasuke sent him a blank look.

“I’m taking the bathroom,” he then declared, standing up. But as he did—something seemed springing to alertness in Naruto and he took lurched forward, leaning down his head close to Sasuke’s face and speaking in a hush.

“I had such a weird dream—” he began saying “—I dreamt that we woke up and discovered we were alone in the complex, and it was pitch black and quiet.”

“Don’t follow me in here!” Sasuke pushed Naruto back to just outside the bathroom, yet the blonde would not be interrupted even while forced to walk in reverse.

“We went out’a the room to look for any sign which would indicate we weren’t the remnants of civilization,” he continued. “But the building was icy cold like it hadn’t been lived in for weeks. We searched the cafeteria then we searched the library, the training halls and down every corridor but there was no one and nothing—not even an echo, ya know.

Then we went to the balconies, and we looked down over the railing and we could see the courtyard; and in the courtyard there was this creepy, black _thing!—_ blacker than the darkness, blacker than anything I’ve ever seen! It was as large as four or maybe six stagecoaches standing side by side in a huddle. But it wasn’t anything solid because it was shifting and it was moving, almost swaying in the wind like reed. It looked kind of like this gelatinous mass, only it was vaguely translucent and sort of smoking in the contours; or maybe it was the air reacting, like with bitumen on a very hot day.

Whatever it was, we jumped down there to find out. I didn’t even think about it, just jumped the whole five meters and landed fine. You did too. We trudged through the snow, and when we approached the thing we heard it making a sound. It reminded me of those new type of metallic cranes, only with a jammed pulley someone just kept tugging at; it was screeching but very quietly and sort of hiccoughing.

Then I saw that the thing wasn’t a thing but it was somehow a crowd, only there was something wrong with them and in the background the mountain pass was on fire! It was so bright it blinded me, and when I looked away from it and back to the black crowd they were still making that noise, but it had grown deafening and I had to cover my ears.

I ducked and they were swarming me—just screeching! I begged them to be quiet but they only kept getting louder until I couldn’t take it anymore and I screamed at them: ‘who are you!?’ and ‘why are you making that noise!?’ at which point they were either struck mute or I’d finally gone deaf.

One of them leaned towards me, Sasuke, and it was the back of your head. When I looked at you next to me, it was the same image. You wouldn’t or couldn’t turn around to show me yur face—and you were laughing to yourself. But I couldn’t understand why you would be laughing in such a terrible situation. Were you laughing at me or the crowd?”

“It was a dream. I wasn’t actually there.” Sasuke was looking at him peculiarly.

“Yeah, I know, but—it was just so weird! I’m freaked out about it.”

“Well, I haven’t been laughing at you, though that’s not to say the day isn’t young. Just try and forget it.”

“It was like the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“But it still hasn’t happened to you because it was a dream, genius. You’re awake now and this is reality.”

“Alright.”

“There’s no such thing as reed-people, and I’m not turned around but facing your nonsense with all the devotion I can. Is that good enough?”

“I guess.”

“You’ll feel better soon, just don’t think about it too hard. You’ll only sprain your head and probably end up hallucinating.”

“ _Hmm_. Go on and hurry up in the bathroom! I’ve gotta take a piss.”

“ _You_ do? What do you think I’ve been trying to do since before you started gibbering at me?”

“Just pick it up already!”

“I am!” The door slammed shut and Naruto remained on the outside, smiling. But the strangeness of his dream would not leave him for a while, and he remembered the specters’ dissonant screech all too well.

*

In the cafeteria at seven o’clock a.m. there was an empty chair at the general’s table. His right hand was thus gaping at him, and it set the goodly attendance on edge as a whole. Three hundred women and men minded carefully their tongues and lips so as not to betray themselves, but still kicked each other under the tables for sheer need to remark on this bizarre insult dealt by Uzumaki Naruto.

General Mifune was the picture of dignity; his chest was arched, robust like the trunk of a pine, and it was being proudly presented while he breakfasted on porridge with melted butter, on grilled spam and thick gravy, milk and eggs and lettuce in abundance at his elbows. One wouldn’t have suspected at all that he didn’t share (even in the early morning) the austerity of the mountains, were it not for the light dusting of pink on his cheek and a crick in his jaw.

Interspersedly, but without being able to pick up on what was being said, the samurai witnessed their general making quiet conversation with those dignitaries at his table whom had decided to join him. Of course, their presence was mandatory; we make this clear and also relieve the reader of the same dull situation at which the majority were obliged to experience the general’s committee, by taking you right to the empty seat.

“It’s all ready. We wait only for your signal to execute, General.”

“And you will continue to wait until it’s given,” Mifune said, chewing and fixing his keen eye on the person left of him. “Nothing good will come to you from trying to rush me. In this matter I must tread lightly—all of us do.”

“But the boy might take off at any moment! If we wait, we may well be letting him go ourselves! The fact that he’s not here now proves he’s preparing to make an exit!” said the Second Lieutenant, farther down the table. He was a nervous fellow, evinced by his chin that was perpetually in the air as well as the creases that were on his napkin. His favorite garment was his vermillion Lieutenant’s mantle, which he wore even to breakfast.

“A man,” the general corrected him. “Not a boy, but a man. I’ve been scolded for the idea recently myself, and was rather rudely made aware it’s not that they’re children but that I’m old. This includes the present company, I regret to inform. At that—gentlemen—we’ve clearly no choice but to henceforth regard these young folk as quite grown and wise to the world. We will treat them like adults. Won’t we?” The general and his dignitaries shared a moment of communal insult, and expressed their attitude towards it through laughter.

“Furthermore,” Mifune resumed. “It’s not such a simple thing as that I could take him and pluck him from his room and sit him down in this chair next to me!” General Mifune had spoken these words with a sudden vivacity which surprised the members of his committee; indeed, it surprised all of they who were inside the cafeteria and who saw it happen. He was snapping his fingers at the Second Lieutenant’s nose and glaring at him. “If I tried that he would already be gone!”

“And it’s guaranteed that he isn’t?” This impatient voice came from the lower end of the table.

The samurai, most notably the high-ranking ones, would always prefer not to raise their voices and shout across tables if they could help it. But this was an urgent affair, and therefore none found it strange but remarked on the necessity of stress to themselves, one and all. They looked to their general for a reply.

“He’s in his room. I’m certain of it,” answered quickly a steely captain, dressed in blue and weatherworn years.

“And the other one?” continued she from the low end.

“ _Bah_!” spat the general.

“They are both together,” answered the captain. “At Naruto’s poor reception last night when he was told how we find his relationship with that rogue, it appears that he rushed back to his room in a hurry, where we had already stored Uchiha, and has since not let him out of his sight.”

“Well, we do need them together,” tersely made the colonel her one contribution to the committee. She was of the lazy sort that likes to take their time, and as a result wasn’t overly concerned with the predicament being discussed. Her green linens bunched at her elbows as she ate.

“Yes, that much is true, but it wouldn’t hurt us to wedge a little _some_ thing between them instead of making things worse by practically welding them together!” The Second Lieutenant argued.

“I say we act before it’s too late. I’ve waited long enough, General.” Mifune, who had been listening to the people talk, now lay a watchful stare at the one member out of place in his company. This was the person whom had spoken first, and sat by his left hand.

“You will have them both,” he told them. “And afterwards you will give Uchiha to me, as we agreed. You will recall that we also agreed I would be the one to let you know when we act, not the other way around. I am General of the Land of Iron, and that means what I say goes.” Mifune’s voice was absolute. When he spoke quietly, it had the same effect upon people as did the most incensed of reproaches.

“We’re no longer in agreement, I’m afraid. My cooperating with the Land of Iron rested on the condition that her general wouldn’t hinder my investigation, and with your clumsiness you’ve alerted Naruto to danger, ensuring we won’t be interviewing him because he won’t believe he has friends here asking harmless questions. He’s suspicious. We act. Now!”

“We—will—not!” Mifune emphasized. He had scooted his chair closer to the speaker, and he now sat knee-to-knee with them, whispering and drumming his fingers on the tablecloth. “There is a show to be held at a quarter to nine—that’s in ninety minutes, you’re aware of it—and during that show the sun will come up over my troops and my guests, and they will be convinced to stay. You will have your interviews, but not before I’ve set the playing field for you. You won’t harm the Hokage elect. You won’t touch him without my say-so.”

“General, you’re forgetting your place and menacing me.” The secret agent, as they ought to be called because it’s what they were, appeared unperturbed. They sat with their hands perfectly poised in their lap, and replied in an awful whisper which imitated the general’s, asking: “What will you do if I refuse? Are we talking war?” Mifune worked his jaw for a moment at this, going over the threat in his mind with a rarely called on cool-headedness.

“You won’t attend the show,” he then said. “And you won’t speak that _ridiculous_ term in my presence.” The secret agent was silent but they smiled knowingly. They then inclined their head and looked out across the table and at all of the tense faces.

“Very well,” the agent said before taking a deep drink of their water. “ _Aah_! You’ll proceed with your plan, and I’ll be sorry to miss the show. I’m sure it’s something extraordinary of a treat to watch soldiers as— _hm_!—fine as your own do a little performance.”

*

Naruto and Sasuke were slow walking down the long staircase leading to the courtyard. Naruto was fiddling with the straps of his backpack, tightening them appropriately around his waist and shoulders. With cloak on and in full gear, he checked that the fanny pack around his hips was secure and that the holster around his right thigh was close. Sasuke stuck his elbow in Naruto’s ribs.

“Stop fussing!” he told him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” At the bottom of the staircase, the exit let in powdered snow on the wind. It landed and sat in such a perfect spray about the stony mouth that it looked almost artificially applied, were it not that the sweeping arches of snow which denoted nature’s hand and assured both identity as well as presence of the artist were continually improving on the picture, and was too excellent besides in making the gullet of a giant out of a staircase; incanting something like a sorrowful siren’s song on the whistling lips and thus freezing himself for want of sleep, the creature caught sympathy with his great intake, and a quilt of sparkling, ground diamond was laid, comforting him to the core; such is inexhaustible Nature, the fastidious, the original eccentric, dwelling on minor details of her creation which may seem useless, but are in reality the very essence of the world.

Naruto was glad to step outside of the complex despite the bad weather, and he savored the feeling of snowflakes hitting his cheek. Starving, he stuck a protein bar in his mouth and also caught snow with it. It melted quickly, however, and he drank it down.

Sasuke wasn’t as thankful; he couldn’t eat when he was nervous, and so he was both hungry and cold, pulling his hood tighter about his head.

The courtyard was near on totally filled by a hundred samurai. They stood like shadows in the storm, like an undulating gradient of ever darker silhouettes the farther one looked in their direction, and they were all turned towards the arrivals. Naruto shuddered at the image, remembering his dream.

Ahead, on the side Naruto and Sasuke had entered upon, General Mifune along with three others in splendorous, fluttering costume were waiting for them. The two friends made forward, and were received by one of the handsome people—the reader will recognize him as the Second Lieutenant.

“My Lords,” he said, having run to meet them, and now walked and bowed simultaneously while gesturing with his hands the way that they must go. Naruto raised an eyebrow at him, thinking that he looked like a crimson apparition pointing wayfarers to the edges of cliffs.

They joined Mifune whom had his attention fixed on the courtyard. The company, now complete, waited for the general to speak. Their clothing, meanwhile, made the only input of sound to be heard, whipping about them in varying bright colors like flags (excepting Naruto, Sasuke and Mifune who were in black—and what this color of theirs forecast, we will withhold).

“You’ve made it,” spoke Mifune without turning his head. “I’m glad. And you’ve managed to land yourself something to eat—this is also good; I would hate for my honorable guest to famish while in my care.”

“This is mine,” Naruto interjected. “I brought it.” He chewed furiously and his cheeks bulged.

“You’re of a sensible people, Naruto; I’ve an idea you’re able to feed yourself without being offered so much as a crumb. It should come as a surprise to no one that an assassin might forgo any food that’s offered to him, isn’t that right? I’m not offended.” Naruto munched on his protein bar for a reply. “Before we begin,” Mifune chanced to say, and he turned to look at Naruto and placed his hand on the shinobi’s shoulder. “I would just like to express my heartfelt regret to have upset you the other night. It was never my intention.” He ran his eyes over Sasuke at having said this, and as his attention was being returned to him with smoldering disdain, he looked momentarily deep in thought. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing,” he mumbled.

Naruto found it strange that the general would retract his formerly so stubborn argument, all but apologizing. He squinted at him, trying to understand the meaning of it. But before long he shrugged, deeming that as it wouldn’t change his own mind no matter what Mifune was thinking, and as he and Sasuke would be leaving soon, he needn’t worry in any case.

“I was all ready to go,” he said. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Sasuke, ya know,” And this earned him the general’s most secretive whisper:

“You don’t know how true that is.” Mifune released him and turned back to the awaiting courtyard. Naruto stared on in confusion as the general’s armor-clad fist was raised, and a stentorian shout the likes of which belied the aging figure it had sprung from erupted.

“ _Ready_!” Mifune commanded his troop, starting the display. A sound like clapping thunder answered from the courtyard when every samurai, in polished armor, stomped their feet as one being and arranged themselves into 10x10 lines. Sasuke was watching with a void expression while Naruto himself became transfixed, his jaw dropping. “ _Begin_!”

Every second person from the front took a step to their left. In this way they created a set of new queues which appeared between the originals. With flawless synchrony, these samurai then squatted into a very low, very wide stance, already with their hands on the hilts of their swords. In time with the samurai still upright, every blade was pulled free of its sheath. This production filled the courtyard with an orchestral mood as many clear, high notes, not identical but unmistakably related, harmonized and set the blood running cold—it was nothing to sneeze at, the sound it makes as one hundred samurai draw blade at you.

With impressive speed, each and all took a step forward and threw their swords into the air, catching them again with both hands on the hilt and directing the pointed edge forward in exactly the same manner. The centipede then cried out in its loud, complicated voice, thrusting its many spikes forward.

The samurai readied their swords again, sheathing them and lifting them up before their faces, turning them this way and that so that the metallic hands on brushed wood and steel sounded like a rainfall coming on and staving off.

It was monotonous as much as it was musical, Naruto thought, not the sort of thing which brought him happiness. He saw only the damned faces of the vanguard. It made him grieve, feeling at the mercy of circumstance.

Sasuke’s thoughts were hidden, but would be revealed to Naruto. He was immune to the show; the full acuteness of a feral child thereby was unknowingly upon the general’s closest advisors.

The samurai were marching, weaving between one another and spinning their swords around at an upsetting closeness. They threw the blades high into the air next, and Naruto swallowed the last of his protein bar.

The sun came over the mountain tops.

Every blade in the air seemed to explode, catching light. It was like a hundred, shining apertures into some different dimension in the sky, or a flock of gulls afeared. Aurora, with red, glowing gown illumined the display and set a triumphant tone to it, climbing higher toward the zenith; agush, meanwhile, she radiated from her mountainous fainting couch.

Naruto and Sasuke felt the heat touch their faces and sighed.

The samurai show had turned into one of light. The swords which were being flung about the place and easily caught again by scab-free fingers were portrayed as to be capable of more than threatening, being more than just long sticks with which to beat downwards at whatever unlucky bastard was found to grope at the pockets of their betters at precisely this sort of celebration (which never failed to draw the bastards out): the ribald hymn to peace-times habitually sung by those in power; the sword taken for a pen, a conductor’s baton, and, most absurdly, for a scepter; the jollity, a mouse-trap with music in the stead of cheese; it’s the jail-guard, rhythmically clapping his hands and bleating for the inmates to ‘let loose’, for gratitude’s sake at the opportunity.

Would that the world were ready for turning every blade into wind-chimes. . .but it was a mosaic yet of ugliness, as Naruto and Sasuke had seen by their violent travels.

*

“Can you do that?” Sasuke parried the probing fingers in his side and huffed.

“You’re the one who couldn’t, idiot,” he said.

“I’d do it better than you, for sure. But it’s pretty, isn’t it. . ?”

“It’s meant to be. Naruto, this is deranged. . !” Sasuke stepped up close to his companion, practically sharing his hood while he whispered in his ear the following words: “These kind of displays aren’t meant for military personnel to watch, but the public.”

“So?”

“Well, are you feeling soothed?” Sasuke scoffed.

“No.”

"Obviously the general would want to show off to Konoha, it’s what’s expected of him when hosting foreign leaders, but he’s stepping out of bounds. . ! This is more like seduction than intimidation.”

“Oh.” Naruto frowned at this. He fired an anxious glare across the moving courtyard. “Right, we’re being distracted.”

”The best weapon for detracting from an indigenous threat—“

“—is a god damned too ra loo ra. . ! We should’ve taken our chances with the blizzard. . !” At this admittance, both shinobi straightened their postures as carefully as they could. Now, every person was a potential source of harm.

Naruto’s mind went to Mifune’s contempt of Sasuke and he cursed the lying dog, feeling stupid to have trusted him too much—but he’d not thought the general would go so far as to use force to arrest Sasuke.

“Is everything to your liking?” asked then Mifune, sensing his guests’ anxiety. Naruto jerked. The three colorful dignitaries were staring at him with lips almost imperceptibly moving. “Which do you prefer: the way that they march or the way their armor reflects the sun?”

“I think,” Naruto began on a tremor. “That the glare makes them too obvious. The element of surprise is yur greatest advantage, ya know.”

“ _Hm_! A very _shinobi_ thing to say, isn’t it?” Understanding flared in Mifune’s smile, and he confirmed that he’d been found out. “What you’re missing is the way that it gets in the enemy’s eyes, as well as how the sun’s rays lends an air of majesty to the samurai which not only inspires them but has the opposite effect on any adversaries.”

“Is that how you’d pictured this would go? Shinobi aren’t like the samurai, General Old Man. Ya know, the difference between terrifying someone before their death and not is a mercy-kill, and one might even argue the terror of death is worse than death itself.” The stomping feet of the large troop was a constant throwback to the drumming of Mifune’s fingers meanwhile he and Naruto made their exchange. The air was thick with their entanglement with one another.

“Mercy-kill? A _ridiculous_ concept. What do you know of _that thing_ , Naruto? You shouldn’t be saying the word without proper respect.” The general squinted at him.

“Oh no? If I could seize _death_ I’d spit on it. I may not know about yur respect, but we’re in the same business, aren’t we? At least I’m not afraid to say the word.“

“What you take for fearlessness is nothing but the rashness of youth,” retorted the general, irritated. “But don’t worry; someone of your caliber, I’m sure, will live to outgrow it, and then you’ll be thankful to have survived despite yourself. Now, how did we end up with this gruesome talk? Let’s enjoy the show instead.”

“You can call me an idiot outright; if you didn’t wanna make me angry with you, name calling is the first thing I wouldn’t’ve minded, ya know. Like a coward, you imply I’m too gutsy but refuse to put yourself in my position. . ! I think yer not gutsy enough. . ! Mercy isn’t ridiculous—excessive punishment is. . !” Mifune was silent for a while. He looked at his mountain, and then he said:

“When I die, it’ll be nature taking what it’s owed—but of course I’m afraid. It’s certainly easier to be fearless than it is to be courageous; fearlessness can be artificially achieved through drugs while it’s impossible to administer the strength of spirit required to be courageous. But what is courage, Naruto? and what’s it worth?

Courage is a thing of inspiration, and I will tell you why in a minute. First, I have to make sure you understand that one of the greatest things we can do for one another, as members of one people, is inspire each other.

Inspiration brings joy. It brings hope during trial. These two things are so heavenly in their goodness, understanding them perfectly is instinct to mankind; they don’t need to be explained.

Inspiration too, has an arsenal. This arsenal is frequented by artists and politicians. It contains a superweapon—that’s the Heroic Death.

When we die needlessly, like from sickness, unwarranted injury or from old age, there’s no need to be afraid. The dying isn’t the one meant to inspire—their fellows are. I agree with you that mercy is important then.

But a hero can’t be fearless, because if they’re fearless they’re sacrificing nothing. Thus, the hero will lay down their life purposefully, agonized by fear—and you will have a supernova which will inspire anyone who happens to witness it.

Leaders must be heroic.

To lead by example isn’t easy; it involves making sacrifices which may eventually bring you to a precipice.

Here’s why we’re inspired by courage: the reason you stay despite the odds, and with thanks to that heroic quality, is because your cause is greater than your fear; it may be bigger than man’s capacity for imagining terror even, which is already enormous. To have a cause bigger than your own capacity is humble, and humility is self-denial; self-denial is generosity; and generosity is the charity we need when we’re without and we’re wanting. It blesses our lives and is divine.

Courage then, is proven to be worth a lot.

Substance sets everything apart—and what a substance is the courage needed to face one’s fears for the sake of others’ gain!

You say that I’ve no interest in your position, Naruto, but you’re wrong. You have to be tactful now, and consider what to do.” Mifune’s expression was alive with restraint, and this he shone on Naruto uselessly—whom took a big step back.

“. . .It’s a fashionable display, General Old Man,” he spat, inclining his head toward the courtyard. The general regarded him sourly.

“So it is,” he said. There was a vast disappointment which came over him as he shifted his feet ever so slightly. “For the greater good, son.” And disturbed the two shinobi who could sense the fatal atmosphere.

*

“Sasuke!” Naruto called out in preparation to leap but as he was ready to escape one danger, another appeared from over the edge of the natural platform which the courtyard sat on.

Together with a shock of noise which incessantly buzzed like what our heroes could only liken, incomprehensively, to the rapid beating of an insect’s wings, a giant, beetle-looking machine ascended from behind coverage of the mountain side and hovered above their heads, floating on a tempest.

The noise it made was deafening. All those present in the courtyard were knocked to the ground by the gusts of wind that the creation threw off. What was it? It was an aerial screw 2.0—something horrid, some black behemoth, airborne, awful.

It was roughly the size of a covered wagon, its matte body made of metal and blotted dark. It had a white print on it, but this was indecipherable text neither Sasuke nor Naruto could understand.

Above the machine buzzed its halo (which was correctly assumed to be two angled blades of equal proportions, lying perpendicular to each other at their midpoints, and were affixed to the narrow end of a rotating shaft at their point of intersection) and on the belly of the machine were protruding upturned trestle legs, support structures consisting of two skids on pegs. Furthermore, it was tetrascopic: having its main eyes in front, and the secondaries on each flank. The monster-machine had a large hole straight through its hollow body, the cause for which must be to let passengers on and off.

Naruto and Sasuke bounded from it in disgust, landing at the edges of the courtyard some meters away. They lifted their arms up to shield their faces. The memory of having seen trains in the Land of Snow shot to the forefront of their minds, and made them look for any steam, finding none at all.

The samurai display had been thoroughly disrupted, and the performers themselves lay scattered in the snow, rising on their hands and knees.

Down the ebon contraption fell then four black ropes, and soon sliding down those, like drops of oil, was seen a group of people identical in tactical dress and who were cradling strange, metal moldings to their chests. They set their feet on the courtyard and raised the moldings up, holding them ahead of themselves and peering athwart them. It was then that Naruto and Sasuke understood that they were weapons.

The strangers had their faces covered by dark grey, textile masks and only their eyes were visible through them. They moved forward over the courtyard, and the fallen samurai scrambled to maintain their distance.

In a carefully rehearsed operation, the strangers took control. With the implied danger of those weapons they carried along with their authoritative shouts, they made all of one hundred people second-guess themselves—but Naruto was surer than ever.

This was the setup. This was Mifune’s shameless lunge.

Naruto growled with anger and took a firm hold of Sasuke’s shoulder, glaring hatefully at the old general without noticing how he himself stood gaping at the bizarre appearance in the sky.

Sasuke shrugged free.

It could not be overstated how profound was the shock experienced by the shinobi and samurai to see this thing. They didn’t know what to make of it, had never seen anything like it before.

While Mifune looked on, yet another person stepped into the open from within the flying machine. At seeing whom it was, he evidently recognized them and did not like to see them there because he grit his teeth and clenched the handle of his sword the very instant.

The person stood looking down at the crowd below for a short moment, before they too slid down one of the black ropes and landed in the courtyard. Naruto recognized them too.

“Naruto Uzumaki?” She called his name like she couldn’t see him where he was, and beckoned for him to approach.

It was his escort, the resplendent samurai woman who’d taken him to his room and delivered Mifune’s messages. Her armor had been removed, exchanged for the same kind of black, tactical outfit that the rest of her company wore.

“Don’t be shy now. We’ll want to do this as smoothly as possible.” It was amazing how her voice carried despite the noise of her monstrous mount. “ _Ah! Ah!_ ” she reprimanded, wagging her finger when Naruto’s body twitched. “Don’t be doing that. Come here for a second.”

“What do you want!?” he screamed at her. He tried to position himself in front of Sasuke, but his friend wanted no part of it and sidestepped him without much ado.

“I just want to talk to you and your friend for a little bit—that’s all!”

“Forget it! What’re those things!?” Naruto pointed at the strange weapons the escort’s party carried.

“Nothing to worry about; just a bit of a precaution on my part, no different from the knives on your belt, I’m sure.” She turned her attention on Sasuke. “You’re Sasuke Uchiha, correct?”

“Don’t fucking talk to him!” Naruto bellowed. “Don’t even look at him!”

“Well! I’m sure Sasuke can speak for himself just fine, can’t he? This won’t take long. Just cooperate and we’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

“Old Man, you bastard! You set us up!”

“ _Lieutenant_!” General Mifune spoke the title like a curse. At once, every samurai in the courtyard restored their bearings in the storm and prepared to fight. “I said to wait!”

“Naruto, Sasuke—” the escort said again “—come. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“What’s this about!?” Sasuke’s clear voice spoke impatiently. He glared in response to the baffled anger Naruto shot at him.

“It’s about whether you boys will be coming along peacefully or if you’re going to waste everyone’s time.”

“I thought you said you wanted to question us!” The nominal lieutenant laughed at this.

“We can hardly talk over all this hubbub, can we? Come along,” she said.

“Do you think we’re stupid?”

“To hell with yur orders!” Naruto spat. He and Sasuke were fully anticipating a fight, and the lieutenant wasn’t glad to notice. She frowned heavily. “I don’t know what it is you wanna talk to us about—”

“The violent incident of 07.”

“—and I don’t care! Six years ago, Sasuke _helped_! If yer so unhappy with his verdict then you didn’t have to conspire about it—just take it to the Hokage, ya know!”

“This isn’t about Sasuke any more than it’s about you! You’re both critical persons in my investigation. Now, get onboard!”

“Me?” Naruto was stumped to hear this. “Look—who I choose to travel with is—”

“Get your head out of the gutter, idiot. . ! This is bad,” Sasuke hissed. He was lowering his stance warily.

“No! I won’t let them take you, Sasuke.”

“You. . .This isn’t the time for that.”

“Okay boys—” shouted then the lieutenant “—that’s us finished with going easy on you. I don’t make the rules; I just follow them! If you don’t do as I say, I’m afraid you’ll be obstructing a lawful investigation—an offense punishable by legal action!”

“What the hell’re you talking about!?” Naruto screamed back at twice the volume.

“Failure to oblige is a federal crime! Get—onboard!” Naruto and Sasuke took a look around, eyeing the strangers whom were having some trouble containing the confusion of the samurai and simultaneously preventing the two shinobi from moving. They were aiming their mysterious weapons at them, and Naruto knew he had to do something fast.

“No,” he said, mimicking Sasuke’s low stance. “No, we’re not going anywhere with you, ya know!”

“Yeah, I don’t see why we should,” Uchiha supplied. The lieutenant put on leather gloves.

“You don’t scare me, sweetheart,” she grumbled at him. “I’ll tell you, civil unrest is a serious offense! Very serious! But then—you would already know that, wouldn’t you, Naruto?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You playing coy? How many of you are there left would you say? or rather of us?” At this suggestion, Naruto was confused but an inkling of something familiar stirred within him. He looked at the stranger’s waving, red ponytail as if for the first time, and all at once denied any sense of a relation.

This person was dangerous, and that was all he needed to know.

“Are you saying you’re one of Naruto’s clansmen!?” Sasuke asked.

“What are you?” she ignored him, her focus centered on Naruto. “Twenty-three, right? Born in ninety. Perhaps you don’t know.”

“Know what!?” Naruto gasped.

“About Uzushiogakure! The jural reckoning in seventy-six? Whole place was artilleried? Your home? No? _Nothing_? Well, I guess that makes sense.” The lieutenant clicked her tongue in somewhat amused disregard, and Naruto stared, thinking he’d been struck by something.

His what? Ar-till-ery? He felt his mind run away with trouble.

“Enough!” Shouted Sasuke then, taking a step forward. He was sparking with live fire. The lieutenant inspected this effect and her eyebrows sailed.

“Or what?” she smiled at him. “You can’t even mold your chakra properly; what are you going to do? On the up hand, your constitution does make it easier to detain you.” She set to walking towards Sasuke and Naruto, and her party were made to abruptly resume their shouting commands at the samurai. Naruto stepped in front of Sasuke.

“I don’t need you to protect me!” barked he, fed up with Naruto’s possessiveness.

“Just shut up and stay out of my way.” A certain grief had overtaken him, and it unified his mind in this moment.

While Naruto had spoken, chakra began bursting forth from inside him in a right flood of it. It whirled furiously, a scintillating golden color which materialized and shrouded him as if in a long coat. Every inch of his body glowed with an inherent fire, transforming him with shades of orange and red.

It was a marvel: the climate was affected; the ground underfoot (in a five-meter-radius about him) bared as the snow melted, wafting the musty scent of earth; the temperature overall began to climb and the storm vanished.

Naruto’s blue eyes were altered too: yellow, with slanted, elongated pupils; halfway obscured though they were by his heavy-set brow, the lieutenant who saw them staggered in her approach.

She opened her mouth to address the impossible being which stood before her in all his wide-stretched radiance, and she knew then the same awe and fear that her machine had previously inspired. But an unforeseen interference hindered the play of events.

Naruto’s resonance was aborted, and thus his power blinked into inexistence at a sound like a loud clap.

“A—!” Paling to his normal appearance, Naruto groaned and looked down his own body, his feet shifting with imbalance. In his chest sat a syringe with a colorful tassel at the end of it. He touched it with his fingertips. It was hot.

“No!” screamed the lieutenant, throwing herself at one of her men. “You idiot!” The storm resumed the same as before.

Naruto pulled the dart out and dropped it on the ground, his head spinning.

The restive group of strangers were disturbed, and before anyone was able to react in hierarchical accordance they all aimed their firearms at Naruto, expecting danger thence but were instead beset by the samurai.

Sasuke lost his mental footing—he moved without thinking.

Mifune put himself between the strangers and his soldiers as they started falling one after another. One of the strangers lost their arms along with their weapon, and the greying general was sheathing his sword behind him before the man had had chance to scream.

The lieutenant released the subordinate she’d grabbed and checked on the two shinobi, noting the one to be buckling, and the other (the harmless one) with a bad idea all about him. Sasuke was darting to Naruto’s aid.

The sound of the firearms screamed and repeated, louder than before.

Naruto strained against the sedative in his system; his vision was a blur but he could see some of what was going on around him.

A shadow was stepping in front of him, moving as if in slow-motion. It was wielding a lightning bolt, twisting it around itself and Naruto saw the bolt blinking with yellow sparks. It was like he was watching a dark cloud having come down from heaven, personified and urgent for something he didn’t understand.

Then it collapsed. There was no further blinking and the lightning bolt fizzled out, becoming steel and lodging in the earth. The cloud solidified, and revealed the kneeling form of a young man Naruto knew well.

His heart stopped and he shot forward, catching Sasuke in his arms when he tottered backwards. He held him tightly, looking on in disbelief at the way Sasuke’s skin had blanched unnaturally. Naruto’s left hand felt wet and warm.

“I—”

“ _Shush_! What’s wrong with you. . ?” Naruto’s lip quivered, and he shifted Sasuke about in his arms, wanting to hold him close yet was unwilling to look away from how he was fighting to stay awake. “Yer so stupid,” he whispered miserably. “Yer so fucking stupid, bakasuke. . ! No, no, no! Don’t close yur eyes! Hey! Sasuke, _please_. . !” With an agonized wail, he pressed his forehead to his fallen companion’s, willing him to spring back to life—but it was of no use. Sobs wracked through him. “SASUKE~!”

Naruto forced himself to not grieve, choking on his tears and the anguish turning to blind rage as he laid Sasuke down and turned back to the strangers who were engaging with the samurai. Naruto roared and sprang for them.

Kurama, who’d been awoken, was howling. His connection with Naruto was nowadays indistinct; they couldn’t clearly sense one another, and so his voice was in the shinobi’s mind like a peppered discharge of incoherency whenever he did perceive something to be the matter. His chakra was pulled on in the disturbing silence, and Kurama wouldn’t resist.

The soldiers and their commander thought to try and withstand this twist of fate, but they were wrong to.

They lost sight of Naruto. The strangers searched for him but did not find him first. He came sprinting out of nowhere; the lunatic demon-possessee with reaching hands clawed himself stuck to a toppling soldier whom screamed in terror, before his throat was severed by teeth and reduced to gurgling. Naruto ran for the next man.

*

He could hear the sound of joints breaking coming from around him. Sasuke felt cold and sluggish.

He’d fainted due to the rapid drop in blood pressure, but he was coming to. Lifting his head up off the ground, he realized in a hurry what was happening. Pulling himself up and grasping his shoulder, he started dragging his feet forward.

Whatever drug they’d used on Naruto, it must’ve had an adverse effect likely to do with his abnormal physique.

Lost in the wind, Sasuke could just make out his own name being called in a melancholy tone.

He could hear Mifune yelling in the distance too; he was demanding Uchiha’s location.

“Naruto. . !” Sasuke called himself for his friend several times before his desperation would be met. With his body at an angle to shield himself against the gale, he couldn’t look up or he’d fall over; and suddenly Naruto’s boots trod curiously before him. Sasuke discovered him only when warm hands were already on him, touching, inspecting and finally lifting him up, pressing him to an undeniably awful safety.

They vanished, and left standing in the courtyard was Sasuke’s mirror-sheened sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while because there were a lot of demanding segments. Commemoration notation to the occasion~!
> 
> Hope you're having a wonderful day ;)


	9. A Bad Injury with Good Result

Sasuke tumbled to the ground. Naruto released him and went away, moaning.

He had managed to use the body flicker technique with the last of Kurama’s chakra, bringing both himself and Sasuke to a cave that overlooked the samurai complex. The cave was a cut in the mountain peak of about 10 meters’ depth: the result of a lightning strike some decades prior. Normally, it was the stormy harbor of some mountain goats and nesting raptors, and had never before hosted specimen of the bipedal lords of Earth. Could a cave court, it would’ve, and at the same time swept droppings out of itself with ‘bare hands (as it were)’ from before the soles of shod feet.

The majority of the interior of the cave was lit up by the blizzard beyond the opening, while at the very back it was steeped in shadow.

Frosted rock supported Sasuke’s cheek and body. With effort, he managed to push himself into a sitting position. He was panting and holding his left shoulder, as a cold sweat broke out on his skin. He looked for where Naruto had gone.

Bracing to the wall a small distance away, he was spotted throwing up a mess of sound and misery.

Sasuke cursed. His shoulder hurt like hell—his entire torso did, in fact, and he felt ill. Wincing, he lifted his palm to inspect it, finding it to be coated in blood. He could consider himself lucky though: the wound was clotting and no longer hemorrhaging.

The projectile he’d been hit with had passed through right underneath where his collarbone met his shoulder joint, and it had damaged only soft tissues. If he could irrigate the living shit out of the wound and treat it with clean dressing, he had a chance at survival—especially if he could get his hands on some ninja-grade antibacterial ointment and Tabletcillin.

Sasuke eyed the bag which was thankfully still strapped to Naruto’s curling back. He was the one who carried their medical supplies, because he was a clutz.

Sasuke set his foot beneath himself and rose unsteadily, but it wasn’t for Naruto’s bag he went deeper in the cave. He had to see how his companion was doing.

“ _Ugh_.” Although green in the face, Naruto somehow retained enough energy to practically prick his ears up when Sasuke approached him. He waved his hand, gesturing for Sasuke to stay away, then he gagged again.

Sasuke clicked his tongue, and made a controlled collapse right beside him. He scooted close, nearly fainting another time from the effort of walking.

“Jeez. . !” Naruto tried to spit the phlegm and residual vomit out of his mouth, but the stuff rappelled itself and connected him to the ground. He spat hard after gathering the strength to.

Although too weak to make any comments, Sasuke deduced that he may have faith in his friend’s freakish vitality. He was going to be okay.

Naruto sure enough sat back after a minute, gasping and falling unto his ass.

“Wait,” he croaked. He was exhausted, the drug muddling his brain and making him sick even though Kurama’s chakra had seared any trace of it upon first contact. The damage had been done, and would’ve been so much worse—were it anybody else at the point of that injection.

Naruto wiped his mouth, finding blood on it and paling. He shrugged out of his backpack, and washed himself quickly with water from one of two unopened bottles that he had. Treating his hands to the same effort, he could finally turn his attention on Sasuke; meanwhile, he trembled head to foot.

Sasuke was gasping and sweating—a bad sign. They looked at each other. Naruto mumbled something inaudible, and shuffled them both away from the vomit first of all. Then he set his fingers to work on removing Sasuke’s own bag and his cloak.

“No,” Sasuke objected. “Don’t. I’m cold. . !” He tried to push Naruto’s hands away, but wouldn’t be indulged.

“I have to see!” he was told. The clothing had begun to stick to Sasuke’s wound, and Naruto was as careful as anybody could’ve been but he couldn’t avoid some bleeding. He undressed Sasuke’s upper body completely, and even though he was cold he didn’t shiver.

Sasuke was just on the edge of passing out; he was gritting his teeth, avoiding to swallow because he felt so nauseous. His vision was sparkling. He felt heavy and crooked.

Naruto grabbed him, seeing this, a little huff escaping him as he moved. He was trying to summon and mold his chakra, trying to heal Sasuke, but Kurama was behind the mute wall while Naruto’s own center produced nothing but a sterile clench. He cried out, angry and straining.

“Come on!” His voice was like the bark of a surprised and frightened dog, echoing explosively in the cave. “ _Shit_. . !”

In a hurry, Naruto took out the second water bottle as well as a med-kit from his pack and set all three items down on the ground. He pressed some gauze to the site that was bleeding, and Sasuke’s hand to that. Then he pulled on latex gloves, unscrewed the bottle he’d opened and instructed his companion drink from it.

“Slowly,” he grumbled, setting hand to Sasuke’s shoulder and lifting the gauze, examining him closely.

The entrance wound was on the front of Sasuke’s body, and it looked like a stamped hole with an indentation to its side. Sasuke’s skin was stained with black smudge around the injury, mixing with the drying blood that covered him all the way up his neck and down his torso where it blotted his pants.

Naruto took the bottle away and carefully snuck around Sasuke, looking for an exit wound.

“Naruto,” Sasuke spoke weakly, turning his head. He received no reply.

Rightly assumed, a torn mess awaited Naruto’s view but at least there was no visible bleeding. His voice was shaking when he did speak.

“You breathing okay?” he asked and met with a nod. Naruto even so pushed his ear to Sasuke’s back, listening for half a minute.

Even though he felt like absolute garbage, this still managed to affect Sasuke: the feel of Naruto’s hair on his skin comforted him.

“You scared—the hell out of me!” he spoke again, this time forcing his voice to be loud.

Sasuke didn’t need his airways addressed, and Naruto made this correct assessment. He rose on his knees and put his hands on Sasuke, leaning over his shoulder to stare at him like he was a total jackass.

“Not now!” he snapped. “Stop it!” He sat back down again. “I don’t wanna hear that from you. . !” Sasuke cursed for a response, trying to will himself better like Naruto had done.

The projectile that had hit Sasuke had missed his shoulder blade and threaded his ribs only because of his posture during the incident—he’d been very lucky. His sword had been over his right shoulder when he’d been hit, so his scapula had been out of the trajectory’s path and thereby, possibly, his life had been secured. It was, for Sasuke, a good day to be left-handed and unorthodox.

Naruto spoke in that upsetting voice again.

“Bakasuke,” he said. “You need a hospital. Thing is neither of us can move for a while, so yer just gonna have to rely on my critical thinking skill. Yer gonna be fine—just fine. _Yer gonna be fine_.” He took some fresh gauze along with water from the opened bottle, and used these things to wash Sasuke’s skin clean as well as he could.

“ _Kh_ —!” Sasuke tried to laugh. “That bad, huh? Just—sew me up already.”

“I can’t sew you up, or I’ll trap whatever shit’s already in here.”

“So, what’s your critical—thinking skill telling you to—do?” Looking apprehensive, Sasuke tried to turn around just as Naruto returned to his front. He was taking a firm hold of Sasuke’s uninjured shoulder.

“Whatever I think will help!” he grumbled. “Hold still. . !” Naruto then slowly pressed his index finger inside the entry wound, trying to feel for anything sharp which may be fragments from either the projectile or from bone and may cause additional bleeding. Sasuke sparked with lightning and he cried out.

Naruto was zapped, but he didn’t care.

“ _AHG_ —!” Sasuke clenched his jaw to keep his voice in, and scratched at the arm that held him. Naruto didn’t let him go, but reminded Sasuke to be still at least.

Discovering no sharp protrusions inside of the wound, he cautiously retreated and picked up the second, unopened, water bottle. Poking a hole in its low side with a kunai before clamping down on it, he doused the wound with its contents.

“ _Fuck_!”

“Yer okay,” Naruto bit out.

“Sh—shut up!” He took a few small packages from the med-kit and tore them open, packing Sasuke’s wound with the hemostatic agent cloths they contained. Then he took two rolls of gauze and had Sasuke help by pressing one of them to the entry wound, while he himself pressed the second one to the exit wound, finally wrapping bandages over the both of them and tying knots on top of each.

Sitting back to gauge his process, he looked green in the face again. He was still shaking.

“Drink!” he said, handing over the first water bottle. “Not too fast—you’ll throw up.”

Grabbing a tablet strip from out the med-kit, Naruto popped two large pills into his hand and held them out for Sasuke to take.

“Swallow.” Uchiha was overwhelmed, and therefore glaring at his aide. “Sasuke.” Naruto returned the reproach in full. “Take the pills or I ram them down yur throat—don’t think I’m fucking with you!” Moving as if to actually make good on his word, he stood up on one knee. Sasuke got the hint, and saved his bad temper for later. He did as told.

“Fine. Give me.” Naruto nodded at him, satisfied meanwhile he took off his cloak and jacket. He draped these things tightly about Sasuke, zipping the jacket halfway and bunching the fabric of the cloak in Sasuke’s lap so no skin would be exposed.

He was himself now underdressed for the climate, wearing nothing on his upper body but a mesh undershirt and a long-sleeved black T. Sasuke knew this, and felt guilty. The warm clothing was heavenly on the other hand, and he sighed in gratitude.

Naruto sat before him, finally still, fisting the fabric of his orange thermal pants.

Sasuke looked up, and discovered that Naruto was done. Sasuke would’ve been relieved, but his friend had a weird look on him. He was red, his lips bright pink from how he’d been sucking them while he’d taken care of Sasuke’s injury.

“ _Fuck_!” Naruto spat after an awkward minute. He pulled off the gloves, throwing them down. Then he invaded Sasuke’s space with palms upturned. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked him. “What the—what the fuck is _wrong_ _with you_!?” Abruptly, he was shouting. Sasuke flinched. “You could’ve been killed! I thought you had! Don’t you ever— _ever!_ —do anything that fucking stupid again! I can take care of myself just fine; you getting in the way is just a nuisance so don’t! You could’ve—you almost—I thought—!” Just as Sasuke was beginning to think Naruto would do what the projectile had failed to, his anger vanished and instead he fell apart.

His face constricted in a grimace that Sasuke had only seen on him once before, and the tears which had pestered him ever since he’d heard his name being called spilled over.

Sasuke felt transported back to that hospital room from six years ago. Naruto could feel it too and he hid, his breathing out of control, shooting in and out of him in vaporous clouds.

Sasuke just wanted to grab him this time.

But as he sat there dutifully denying himself, Naruto’s behavior got to him in a way it hadn’t before. That mysterious phenomenon occurred, where one is able to (due to causes unexplained) see a familiar person suddenly in a new light. He witnessed Naruto out of his own context thanks to this, and by its happening Sasuke could finally understand what it was that had been too clearly fatiguing his friend every day.

They were very similar people.

So similar, that they both suffered from the same gutless conviction that read ‘respect equals distance’, and this had driven them apart as a method of earning affection; they could’ve closed the separation at any time, because there was no further affection to be earned—and they had both failed to realize it.

They were each waiting to be approached—but no amount of temptation will draw such people forward.

So, there was something to be done.

Sasuke actually rolled his eyes, a weak mutter in his throat.

When he thought of how he’d gotten smashed that one time (hoping to circumvent his own cowardice by even greater cowardice) and ended up straddling Naruto’s lap, he cringed. It was no wonder the guy had nearly shat himself; he must’ve thought Sasuke cared very little.

Setting his healthy hand to the ground, he winced pulling himself forward, doubting only for a second before bravery possessed him completely.

He dared to reach out.

Naruto at first didn’t understand what had happened. He twisted and turned to hide his shamefulness, yet striving also to see how it was that Sasuke could be holding his hand. The hand he was leaning on was covered by one that was paler, with longer fingers and oval nails. Naruto loved that hand, so he gaped at his companion.

“Wha—?"

“You’re right,” Sasuke said. “I’m stupid. But—so are you, so how am I—supposed to stop myself?”

“Sasuke, you got my hand.” He said this as if Sasuke was somehow unaware of it.

“Yes, I know. Is it—okay?”

“You—are _you_ okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Sasuke felt like he was stepping into a glen where grazed a magnificent animal. He was reluctant even to breathe. “Thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me. . . Yeah. If it weren’t for me you would be, more like.” Naruto wiped his nose and reached for the tissues in his bag. He pulled at his limb, but it was not let go; so, he shed his surprise for a curiosity whose grip imitated Sasuke’s. He cleaned up.

“I’ll let go if you want me to,” Sasuke offered unwillingly, and saw that it had a good effect on Naruto: he sat up straight and looked just like he’d done sometimes as a boy. It was an expression of disgruntled confusion (one Sasuke had thought he’d seen the last of) and it was funny. He was reminded of when they’d practiced tree climbing in the Land of Waves.

“No, I—” Naruto stuttered a little bit “—I—no!”

“Do you get it?”

“You’ve literally never held my hand before. Like—why?”

“Because I want to, idiot.” Sasuke couldn’t help smiling.

“But why now?”

“It’s not just now. Since a long time.” Naruto didn’t understand, because he’d chosen not to. Sasuke hung his head. “Naruto—aren’t you sick of this too?”

“Sick of what?” He was on pins.

“When Mifune and I were in the training hall—” Sasuke pressed his words slowly “—he made it clear to me I was—about to lose all that matters. It was a good thing, as it turns out—because it forced me to realize I—really don’t have time to waste, and it was luck—that spared me that loss. Today, I thought fate was—toying with me, and I had to stop it. You couldn’t have convinced me not to.

I tried to tell you last night when you—came back, but I was too much of a coward to. Well, I’m through being—a coward. . !

I want to hold your stupid hand, because—because you’re it: you’re what matters.” Sasuke was suffering with the effort to lay this puzzle out in Naruto’s lap. It was harder than he’d anticipated it would be, but as he was confessing a secret that could destroy him, it made sense for it to hurt. “Do you get it now?” It was more of a plea than a question.

Naruto had stopped blinking.

“I know this is hard for you.” Sasuke felt irritation crawl all over him. “And that it’s probably my fault.”

“What’s yur fault?” His friend faked a laugh.

“I just thought you didn’t want to be touched. I thought you wanted things this way.”

“ _What_?” Naruto erupted with genuine annoyance. ” _Yer_ the one with all the issues! I do nothing but cater to yur needs all day long, ya know!”

“Ever since the hospital!” Sasuke interrupted him angrily. “You’ve been thinking I—have to forgive you, right? or you can’t let it go. That’s why you— _cater_ to me, as you so affectionately put it.” Naruto winced at this comment. “You’re trying to get me—to come to you and say: ‘I forgive you’ and—‘you’re great’. Isn’t that right?”

“You don’t—listen: you don’t owe me that, Sasuke.” Naruto was running his fingers through his hair, looking elsewhere.

“Damnit, how typical is this? You always do this stuff: get stupid ideas and—run with them without talking to me first! I’m not going to have a—a bad reaction if you touch me. . !” Naruto looked at Sasuke’s body. Then he pursed his lips and turned his head away.

“I can’t,” he whispered. Sasuke, with his new understanding, knew this meek rejection was mostly due to shyness—so he blushed and scowled at once.

“I’m not oblivious,” he hurried to say. “I see it—all over you when you look at me; I’ve just been trying to—mind your boundaries! I know: if anyone should apologize—then it’s me. I’m the one who fucked up.”

“No, yer not. . .” Naruto spoke implicitly. Sasuke’s grip strengthened. “I’m sorry I don’t get it.”

“Just don’t think so hard.”

“So you—what? You—wanna hold my hand?”

“You want to hold mine too, right?” Naruto drew his shoulders closer to his ears. With his thumb, he touched Sasuke’s wrist. “I’m not about to smack you. You don’t have to look so scared.”

Naruto had one question burning on his mind. It elbowed its way forward.

“About that time—” he stuttered “—I—I’m really sorry, ya know.”

“I know that. That’s why I’m saying—you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not like I could easily admit—what I was feeling at that time. . . But none of it was your fault.”

“So do you think—you could—maybe. . .”

“What?”

“Could you—” Naruto bit his lip “—forgive me. . ?” Sasuke knew he had the power to either set his friend free, or continue to imprison him. It was like a door opening, and Sasuke ran to wedge his foot under it.

“ _Yes_!” he said instantly. Naruto lowered his chin to his chest. Blonde tresses covered him. “Yes! I forgive you, genius! What!” Naruto’s right hand slowly raised, and he touched Sasuke’s cheek with a pressure which was like that of running water. Sasuke let go of him in order to pull on Naruto’s shoulder.

Naruto made a noise. He let Sasuke pull him. His left hand lifted, his knee scraped the rocky floor, and he held Sasuke’s face on either side of it. His skin was moist, as was the black hair which tangled between his fingers.

“Is this really okay?” Naruto spoke in an odd, tremulous voice.

“Yes, it’s okay! Why the hell wouldn’t it be okay?” Naruto came even closer, the durable fabric of his pants and the weight of his body producing a scraping noise against the floor yet again, and setting Sasuke’s heart beating fast. He felt faint. “If I didn’t want you—do you honestly think I’d be—spending this insane amount of time—alone with you?”

“I just thought. . .”

“That’s your problem.” Naruto nudged Sasuke’s nose with his. He brushed the hair off a white cheek with reverence.

The corners of their mouths touched, and they both jumped, looking at each other. Sasuke was shocked to turn so supplicant so easily, but at least he did it in silence and could stomach it. He angled his face slightly upwards. Naruto seemed studious like he’d never been, flashing shiny eyelids as he looked from Sasuke’s mouth to his eyes.

Their lips feathered together. Sasuke was busy acting pliant. Naruto’s shoulder was thick and hard with muscle; he absently admired it. Turning his head just a little bit, he made the discovery of Naruto not moving away. They were both gaping. Their mingled breath was hot. Naruto made a bold move. Sasuke understood him fluently and he pounced, weak and pressing their mouths together.

Naruto inhaled deeply, running his fingers through Sasuke’s hair and pushing at the back of his head.

It wasn’t graceful; it was like they were trying to eat each other, distorting facial features and making bruises—but it was certainly passionate, and neither of them could be any more thankful to have their arms stocked so full with awards that bones were creaking, and the salve of Panacea spilling abundantly between their toes.

Their tongues touched; Naruto moaned lightly; Sasuke tasted acid and liked the filthiness of it. He wrapped his healthy arm around the back of Naruto’s neck and flexed. Naruto let run his right hand from Sasuke’s cheek to his throat to his collarbone, then touched his naked chest under the lent clothing with only his fingertips.

Sasuke was trying to get his tongue as deep in Naruto’s throat as he possibly could. His friend’s mouth was hot and wet and heady. Sasuke almost felt sorry for him, struggling to reciprocate in equal measure. Blue eyes slitting open, Naruto broke free from Sasuke’s starving mouth, shushing him, and instead folded the cloak and jacket out of his way before pressing his face to Sasuke’s neck and clavicle. He inhaled, kissed his skin and kneaded his healthy arm.

“Naruto. . !” Sasuke hunched over, and his friend straightened, watching him in wonder. He swallowed, looking him up and down. Sasuke then rested his head on Naruto’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry—” Naruto began.

“Don’t be. . !”

“—yer in no kinda shape right now.”

“I don’t—care. . !” Sasuke braved a smile, humored and happy to feel so indulged after years of waiting.

“Yer gasping, though.”

“Like I’ve—been doing. . !”

“Yeah, but worse. The last thing I want to happen is you getting even more hurt. Alright, somebody’s gonna have to be the adult, ya know.”

“And that someone’s going to be you? I really will die then.”

“Don’t even joke about that. . !”

“I can do it myself,” Sasuke protested when Naruto tried to pick him up. He was offered his arm as support instead.

The two walked over to the wall of the cave and sat down. Naruto kept his left arm around Sasuke’s back, and he pulled him against himself. The whole time, he was blushing radiantly.

“You can relax,” he mumbled. “I’ve got my hand over the wound, so you won’t hurt it.” Sasuke looked at Naruto, and saw that his bottom lip was jutting. He had the same expression on that he’d had when Sasuke had done nice things for him, in the perpetually sunny days of their childhood.

It was nostalgic, and it made Sasuke feel nice.

“You uh—you should probably sleep for a while,” the proposed adult said importantly, scratching the side of his nose.

“As if I could fall asleep.”

“Well, yer gonna do it!” At this roseate aggression, Sasuke snorted, and got more comfortable against Naruto’s glorious warmth. “We’ll be ready to go in a couple of hours, when I’ve recovered a bit more of my chakra.”

“You did something crazy.”

“Yeah. . .I don’t know what that was about.”

“Are your powers coming back?”

“No, I don’t think so. It was just—some kinda fluke. Makes no sense to me, ya know. Don’t worry, Sasuke, I’ll definitely get you to the hospital.” Sasuke sneered at this. He squeezed Naruto’s thigh, effectively shutting his annoying heroism up. He heard him gasp in virgin surprise and chuckled at him. “Shut up. . !” whispered the blonde, embarrassed. “Hey, Sasuke?”

“ _Hm_?”

“Yer not gonna—wake up from yur nap and regret this, are you?”

“No, poindexter. I’m never letting you forget it.” He squeezed the thigh under his hand again, and smiled blearily as it made Naruto stutter.

“I—I swear—if you turn out to be a fucking pervert after all this time. . .”

*

Naruto felt exposed. He needed to reclaim a sense of control; and to this end, Konoha was the closest thing to guaranteed safety. He overlooked civilian medical centers first, and Shinobi ones second. He didn’t trust Ishigakure any more than he did Amegakure. He wouldn’t take Sasuke to The Land of Wind’s Suna, despite it being nearer than Konoha. The risk of wasting time was probable, and Naruto reasoned that he could be very fast if he tried hard. So he would put Sasuke on his back, and run for home.

“Sasuke,” Naruto called quietly on his sleeping friend. He nudged him in his grip. Sasuke had slept heavily, but he blinked now and stirred. “Time to go.”

“ _Hm_.” Naruto stood up slowly, not sure whether his physique was recovered enough yet to maintain a steady blood pressure. But he was fine, not even heavy. He strapped his and Sasuke’s bags to his chest.

“Here.” Pulling Sasuke to his feet and turning around, Naruto stooped and held his arms out. “Jump on,” he said. But Sasuke wouldn’t. He only rubbed his forehead, and was surprised to find that he was wearing gloves.

“Forget it.”

“Sasuke!”

“I said ‘no’! I’m not about to let you piggyback me!”

“It’s the fastest way! Just get on, and stop being childish!” Sasuke crossed his arms and backed up. Naruto spat in frustration. “You stupid Uchiha-jerk. . !” He grabbed Sasuke quickly by backing into him and snatching up his thighs. This action made a loud, strangled noise of pain. Sasuke flexed his legs, trying to distance Naruto’s body from his nuts.

“Fuckin’—asshole. . !” he growled in his abusive friend’s ear, clawing at his shirt.

“Sorry.” Naruto at least had the courtesy to apologize, and he did this blushing.

The next thing he did before taking off at a jog, was that he pulled Sasuke’s right arm forward and clamped the fingers around the straps of the backpacks. “You good?” he asked, trotting for the twilight. Sasuke groaned, unhappy. “Good enough.” Snorting, Naruto hurried into a run and exited the cave.

The blizzard had stopped. Large snowflakes were falling from the blur above like down. To the pair of vacated hawks on the shelf, Naruto was a tormentor stealing into their existence for no reason, and they snapped their little brown heads in his direction before in flight parting.

Naruto didn’t slow down bounding off the edge of the precipice, but Sasuke wasn’t particularly worried. He held on tightly as they fell.

It was far and dark and rough; nonetheless, Naruto maneuvered around catastrophe by surfboarding on skidding rock, stabbing the slope dually with kunai, swinging on little pine trees and using the utmost of his physical strength which was significant. He made an example of their descent, and a mockery of Mifune’s mountain—it was a typically ‘Naruto’ kind of thing to do, because he excelled under pressure.

Snow and noise abounded their trail. The journey home would take four days to finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a nice Christmas! :)


	10. At Home with the Past

With a rustle due to his heaviness, Naruto appeared on a high bough. Sasuke turned out next to him, and they were both crouched. The canopy was some brown some yellow and red, and every other tree in the area was naked. The Land of Fire was constantly whispering as the wind blew.

“You okay?” Naruto asked quietly. Sasuke narrowed his eyes but didn’t take them off the familiar wall ahead of him, the beige cement and auburn tiles of Konoha’s perimeter.

“I’m fine,” he replied.

“ _Liar_. So—we’re back. And those jerks’re in there somewhere.”

“The question is ‘where’.”

“Looks calm enough, but that’s bound to end. What’s it they want?” Naruto gnawed at the nail of his thumb, thinking hard.

“You tell me. Considering that woman’s insinuations, you should be able to figure it out.”

“Yeah, right. . ! Never seen her before in my life. . !”

“Do you think she’s an Uzumaki though?”

“Beats me.”

“Naruto.”

“ _What_?”

“Think about it seriously. . !”

“It doesn’t matter what she is. . ! She’s someone we don’t know who hurt you. That’s enough to figure out she’s a bad guy, ya know.”

“A ‘bad guy’?” Sasuke snorted. “And you’re not going to try and proselytize her like always?” The two made a polarized effect, where the one was confident in the other’s illiteracy and he was embarrassed about it.

“Pro-sell—?”

“You’ve got a one-track-mind. I just mean: aren’t you supposed to believe in the ultimate reasonability of every person who just so happens to cross your path?” Naruto fidgeted at being reminded of this. “You’re usually the one telling _me_ to hold my judgement.”

“It’s—not like I’m not gonna listen when we do face off. . ! I just don’t think it’s possible for me to forgive her.” Sasuke frowned at Naruto, watching his stern profile and trying to gauge the extent of his determination. He considered him a thorough-bred fanatic, but knew also that Naruto’s mind could be changed if he could be humiliated.

“When are you going to grow up and realize life isn’t a game of ‘good guys’ versus ‘bad guys’?” he tried.

“We’ve differing opinions on what life is supposed to be, Sasuke, and that’s fine, ya know. I’m not saying: yer wrong, and I’m right. It’s just how it is.”

“You’re naïve. By insisting things aren’t complicated, you’re just making it harder for everybody else to get by.” Naruto sighed wearily at him.

“In any case! First thing’s getting you to Sakura-chan,” he said. “And we better hurry too—since yer starting to say some pretty annoying stuff.” Sasuke touched his injury. He was certainly in much pain, but ever more concerned with the pain of those important to him.

“No, ” he grumbled. “Because, see, if she is your clansman, there may be some truth to what she said about Uzushio. . ! She can’t be happy about her home being destroyed, so that’s an angle. Then she was talking about a ‘violent incident’. . .”

“Uzushio was ruined a long time ago; she didn’t look like a granny to me, so it’s not like she’d have memories or anything.”

“She shouldn’t care about it, you mean? Idiot, even if she never saw the place it was still the home of her people—provided she’s telling the truth. Clans’ ties run deeply, surely even you feel that much.”

“Even an idiot like me could still push you outa this tree, bakasuke,. . !” Sasuke shook his head at him. “By ‘violent incident’—do you think she could’ve meant the war?”

“Like it could be anything but the war.”

“Shut up. . !”

“ _Hmm_. . .”

“Do you think they’re working for the Daimyous?”

“Unlikely.”

“Right. Cuz if they had access to technology like that, we’d be the first to get it. No sense in keeping two elite forces, one more elite than the other, right?”

“ _Mhm_.”

“We have to find out what they want—”

“—and who they are.”

“Right. . ! Anbu tunnel?”

“Obviously.”

Naruto and Sasuke leapt from their tree, leaving swirling leaves in their wake. They entered Konoha through the Anbu’s secret tunnel.

*

The village was for the most part how Naruto and Sasuke remembered it. Reconstructions were close to finished, and the few changes admittedly improvements to all.

In a rush of influence while they ran, Naruto was made to feel many new chakra signatures—children born in the last six years. These little lights, buzzing clearly, were investigated with a seldom-come notice which brought Naruto joy, and he smiled until in the flood two presences protruded and beaconed an uncomfortable feedback. He looked to Sasuke for confirmation. As he did, Sasuke winced so strongly it was impressive he’d managed not to make a sound.

Delaying only for a second, one of those two signatures pulsed in alarm and drew Naruto’s reaching consciousness in the South-East before the connection broke.

“What was that?” spat Sasuke then. “Not the strangers from Iron. I feel turned around. . !”

“Yeah, like screaming in a closed room. . ! Something’s up already. . !” Naruto bared his teeth.

*

Having performed a ghostly penetration into Konoha and her hospital, Sasuke dropped a look behind himself while Naruto did the bags he’d been lugging. Despite everything, Sasuke was still keen and deemed it safe to turn back around.

Konoha Hospital was too small for a population of 100’000. It was bright (having many windows and shining, clean floors) and there were nondescript art pieces here and there, meant not to insult rather than entertain, looking very depressing.

The woman working at the computer in the reception area yelped. She was taking in the appearance of Naruto and Sasuke, the both of them breathing heavily in their cloaks and gear. The one she recognized was leaving foggy marks on her desk with his arms.

“Hey, uh—” Naruto began “—we need to see Sakura-chan right away.” The receptionist didn’t react. “Yeah? Hello?” Naruto added, waving. He looked at Sasuke, then at her again. “Sorry, but we’re in a hurry so, if you wouldn’t mind, ya know!”

“ _Uhh_ —Mr. Hokage-elect! I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any special treatment at this time!” The woman was squirming with apology, seeming afraid of Sasuke whom she kept looking at. “Might I add, you look fan-tastic. . !” She chanced a smile, scanning her addressee up and down. Naruto straightened his back. “Are—are you feeling much better?”

“What? Better? We don’t have time for this! We need Sakura-chan—now! Please! Sasuke, go sit down! Over there! Go on!” Despite his lovable hand-flapping at the padded benches, his friend all the same refused to obey.

“I’m not a dog,” he avowed.

“Like I already said, Mr. Hokage-elect, I’m sorry but I can’t help you!”

“Wh—why the hell not!? Where’s Sakura-chan!?”

“D—Doctor Haruno is off on leave, I’m sorry to say!”

“Until when!?”

“Until—further notice! I’m sorry! Is there anything else the hospital can do for you?”

“Yeah, how’s about you _call her_!? Sasuke was wounded in battle four days ago, ya know, so it’s not like I don’t have better stuff to do other than just mess around witchu!”

“I’m sure you’re very busy; I would love to be able to help you. . .”

“You need a doctor too,” Sasuke pointed out. “He was poisoned. We don’t know with what.” Engaging with the receptionist, he froze her solid while Naruto only dismissed him like so much bunk.

“I told you: I’m totally fine,” he said, rolling his eyes and twisting his body around. The receptionist made a fighting effort, sliding across the floor in her office chair, picking up the phone and making no unnecessary movements.

“Hello?” she whispered into the receiver. “Um, poss—possible ‘black’ in reception one. . ! Thank you. . !”

“ _Black_!? What the fu—!?" This was hospital lingo that shinobi personnel were familiar with. Naruto leaned so far over the counter his feet left the floor.

“Down the hall, you’ll see a door with the number ‘three’ on it; if your friend would like to sit down in there, a nurse will see to him shortly,” the receptionist stressed from too far away, speaking only just above a hush and pointing. “Please. . !”

“Whatever.” Sasuke didn’t care, and started walking for the hallway. Naruto, on the contrary, picked up their bags with as much anger as he could and decided to shout some things.

“Naruto?” a light voice then spoke. His head turned quickly for it. It was Ino in a nurse’s uniform. She looked beautiful, besides the disturbing emotion on her face. Her long, blonde ponytail bounced when she hurried to him. Tilting her head upwards, she was silent awhile before asking: “What happened?”

“Happened? All sorts! It’s good to see you, by the way, but right now Sasuke’s got it bad. . ! And—there’s another thing. . !”

“Sasuke. . ?” Slowly, she peered over Naruto’s shoulder and, indeed, found the dark figure there which was summoned to her memory by that name, waiting in the passage ahead. She chewed her lip. “What do you want me to do?” she wondered, back in the war field and consulting her commander.

“I want you to get Sakura-chan! I’ve said it a million times already! This person doesn’t seem to get the meaning of _co-oper-ation_!” The receptionist happened to juggle the handset of the phone at this complaint, and ended up tangled in the curly, white cord.

“Are you sure?” Ino reclaimed Naruto’s attention. “Sakura might not be able to do anything, and the shock of seeing him—” she shook her head “—I’ll do it if you say so, Hokage-elect.” Naruto was dumbfounded. Eventually, he licked his lips and said anyway:

“Yeah, I want you to do it, ya know? Get her here. . !” Ino immediately nodded and gestured for the receptionist to go ahead, making her dive on the dial pad.

“Anything else I can do?”

“Yer a nurse, right?” Ino looked confused to be asked this.

“Y—yes?”

“Take a look at him for me.”

“I—!”

“Is there some reason you don’t want to?”

“No! No—well—I’ll do as you ask.”

“Thank you?”

“Of course. . !” Goaded by Naruto’s blatant expectation, Ino rounded him and set to follow orders.

Sasuke, in turn, made a displeasured face before leading the way to examination room number 3. Naruto glared at the receptionist a final time and tugged on his luggage, hurrying after his friends.

*

The door was shutting when Ino caught it, pushing it open wide.

Sasuke was just in front of her, moving slowly and sitting down on the examination table. She stared at him. Naruto came up behind her, and it was his brazen closeness more than anything else which got her all the way inside the room.

Ino rubbed her hands with disinfectant, put on latex gloves and approached her patient. She stuck her foot in between the pegs of a wheeled little stool, moved it to just before him and sat down on it.

“Hello, Sasuke,” she spoke tensely. “Do you remember me?” He raised his head, looking somewhere halfway between amused and annoyed. He looked at Naruto. Naruto smiled a little bit, and helped Sasuke take off his cloak and jacket. He folded them up, and put them on a chair.

“Yes, Ino,” grumbled Sasuke. “I remember you fine.” She nodded, and tried to focus on her assignment.

“You’ve had an accident?”

“I was shot,” snorted Sasuke.

“Shot with what?”

“Hell if I know. It went right through here.”

“That doesn’t sound too good. Mind if I take a look?” Sasuke obliged, then hissed at failing to get his tunic off. Again, Naruto helped him.

“Okay. . . I’ve got it from here, Naru—thanks. Thank you.” Halting any further interventions coming from her old classmate, Ino did a good job of removing Sasuke’s dressing. She cut the pieces of bandage that were stuck to his wounds free of any superfluous fabric, and then dabbed them with saline, little by little pulling them free. “Does it hurt?”

“What do you think?” Sasuke replied venomously. He was digging the fingers of his right hand into the table.

“Not unbearable, I hope. Okay. All done. Now we can take a look.” Frowning for a second, prodding a little bit, Ino quickly excused herself standing up. She checked Sasuke’s back and finally retreated from him. “ _Uuuh_ —” she pulled her gloves off and threw them in a yellow container “—tell you what, I’ll go see if Sakura hasn’t arrived yet, and she can take a look at you; otherwise, I’ll be right back. Sound good?”

“Wait, why can’t you do it?” Naruto disentangled his crossed arms.

“This is really—out of my field. I’ll get someone. . !” Naruto and Sasuke looked at each other, not knowing what had just happened.

*

The next few hours passed in awkward suspension, during which Naruto and Sasuke were both handled by medical staff they’d not met before. There were many handshakes and inspections of Sasuke’s re-dressed wound, as well as questions on just what had happened to the two of them (to Sasuke in particular). The impression of being suspects of a crime didn’t escape either of them.

It didn’t help that they both refused to divulge any details on how Sasuke had ended up hurt.

A surgeon with her quiet assistant had come and extracted the hemostatic agent cloth from Sasuke, disappearing quickly while the assistant re-dressed his injury.

Naruto’s blood was drawn. He fussed about it, and nearly passed out.

The contrast of the urgency in the room when personnel was present compared to the long intervals of privacy was ridiculous. Naruto and Sasuke exchanged one baffled glance after the other.

It was when after four hours had passed, and Sasuke was laying down on the table with Naruto sitting bored by his feet, that Sakura finally materialized.

A rapid double-tap by a knuckle on the door announced her before it was pushed open, and Sakura strolled in with her nose to a notepad. She looked the same, a little taller perhaps.

Her white coat undulated as she abruptly stopped, having lifted her eyes for her two awaiting patients. Time froze when Team 7 surveyed one another. Sakura then turned right back around and left the room. Naruto’s jaw dropped. Sasuke snorted, and the blonde took off at a bound, chasing after her.

*

“Wait! Hey, Sakura-chan, wait a minute!” Sakura was striding down the hall leading away from that unfathomable scene. Her stomping steps cleared the path with clamor alone, so that before she’d rounded a corner her subordinate coworkers were already plastered high on the walls. “Wait, wait, wait!” Of course, Naruto caught up with her and touched her elbow quite familiarly, thus making her jerk her arm away and face him at a stand-still.

“My god. . !” she spat, and her pink bangs flapped with the force of her breathing.

Everybody at the hospital sympathized with Doctor Haruno: they knew about her domestic situation. At the mention of her, they would shake their heads like bells and Konoha Hospital continually rang with the chant of praise to her extraordinary strength of character, but nobody understood it any more than they cared to.

“Did you forget something? You didn’t even so much as take a look at him!”

“Oh, I think I saw more than necessary. . !” Sakura blinked several times, trying to recover herself but was instead absorbed in taking Naruto in. He was bizarre-looking to her—not like the Naruto she knew.

“When did you. . .” she mumbled unthinkingly. “You’re taller! And—how do you have _more mass_ all of a sudden? Your hair’s longer! Naruto!” Without being able to stop herself (because she’d always been very casual with him) Sakura picked up Naruto’s wrists and rotated his arms. “This is impossible. . ! What’d you do?”

“What?”

“And—your arm! My God! Your arm! I just realized!”

“Oh, that! _Haha!_ Yeah, it’s a long story. . . Sasuke got his back too. You shoulda been there, Sakura-chan, it was the craziest thing. . . But that’s not why we’re here!” Naruto reversed the grip she had had on him. “He’s hurt. . !” he at the same time pronounced.

Sakura’s Naruto wasn’t like this anymore. She took a suspicious stance, and looked him from head to foot.

The person standing before her had too much of boy-Naruto in him. He looked so open and free; his voice was clear and brash like a gale, the way it had been all those years ago when he used to be rude and outspoken.

He haunted her now with his resurrected vigor, being all brown skin and white-yellow hair like he was once more sustained on nothing but sunshine (and ramen).

Sakura was insulted, and it showed.

“I don’t have time for this,” she said, shoving passed Naruto.

“No, wait!” Not one to be denied, he skidded in front of her with his hands up. “If you would just please see Sasuke first! He’s really hurt, everyone’s acting weird and nobody’s telling me what’s going on! _Please_! I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t important! He needs you, ya know! Both of us do!“

“ _Stop it_!” Naruto shut his mouth with a ‘ _click’_. “Just—stop it already! I know that Sasuke needs me. . !” Sakura’s change of attitude made apparent in a wash of anger the deep shadows crowning both of her cheeks. “But you can’t expect me to come running for something like this, can you? How did you imagine me reacting?”

“Wha—it’s that bad?”

“Is—it—bad. . !?”

“But he’s gonna be okay, right!?”

“Who is that person in the examination room!?” Sakura flung her arm out, pointing. “Or rather, if it is indeed Sasuke, then what in god’s name did you do to him?”

“What’re you talking about? Of course it’s Sasuke! Can’t you tell just by looking at him!?” It was Naruto’s turn to doubt things.

“You know damn well that I can’t!” Sakura shouted.

“I—don’t really get what’s going on, but—why would you—what’s the matter?” Replete with the scorn of the unjustly burdened, she slipped him a dirty look in reward for these words.

“I know you haven’t exactly been around much, so how would you know the first thing about what’s the matter with me?” she pressed quietly. “I mean: I’m no _best friend_ to you, so I wouldn’t expect you to honestly care.”

“ _Wow_! What? I—!"

“But him? For Sasuke’s sake, I thought for certain you would eventually ask. . ! Like an _idiot_ —I figured you’d come around sooner or later to see how he’s doing. . ! I expected you to come make fun of him or the awful things he says to his family, because that’s the type of relationship you two share, isn’t it?

You’re a coward, Naruto, so you won’t tell him directly that you care and he’s the _exact same way_! You just pick on each other, because that’s the only way you’d know you matter! Well—I guess you’ve finally stopped caring, haven’t you?

I thought—the kind of friendship you two shared couldn’t have been broken by anything.” Naruto understood exactly none of what Sakura was saying. He didn’t care about Sasuke? Or about her? Sasuke had a. . .

“What do you mean—his _family_?” At his confused expression, Sakura covered her mouth and nose with her hand, and turned away. “Sakura-chan. . !” Taking a resolute step forward, Naruto was sorry to see her flinch and hear her voice cry out when he touched her but couldn’t be bothered by it now. He said again: “What do you mean ‘Sasuke’s family’? Who exactly are you talking about?”

“Enough with the pep talks, Naruto!” Sakura spun around and shrieked this. “I can’t stand them anymore!”

“But who is it? Tell me!”

“Oh!” she gasped. “Where _were_ you?” Rejecting the sentimentality brought on by Naruto’s steady gaze, she was even angrier when he wouldn’t relent.

“Who!”

“Well, what do you mean ‘ _who’_!? Obviously, me and Sarada!”

“You and—?”

“You weren’t always this slow!”

“Who is—Sarada. . ?” Now, Sakura felt her gut clench.

“Our daughter. . ?” she sniffed. “Naruto—are you sure you’re feeling alright?” He went over to the window which stretched along the length of the corridor, and Sakura didn’t dare take her eyes off him.

There were brown bushes outside, prickly with shed leaves and pushing to one side in the wind.

“You’re telling me—that you have a daughter whose name is Sarada.” His voice was deep.

Sakura inspected the pack of muscles that had become of Naruto’s back, to her, overnight; she saw how the white fabric of his t-shirt was pressed out. This person was immensely strong, like she’d suspected her childhood friend of being under that damned overall—but she knew Naruto had turned out weak.

“I do,” she answered his turned head.

“And that Sasuke—is the father of that child.”

“Of course he is!”

“And—uh—how old is this Sarada then?” There was something hinging on Sakura’s reply, she could sense it while Naruto listened, backlit against the white atmosphere.

“You’re not—well. . !” she said, wiping her cheeks clean. “Who is that in there?”

“I told you already: it’s Sasuke. You’re the one not willing to believe it. Sakura-chan, I asked you a question.” The lack of any affection in his voice crept under Sakura’s skin and made her recoil; she was unfair prey to Naruto’s temper, being fatigued.

“ _She’s four_!” Her voice broke, crying this. “You know that!” Naruto turned towards her again, and while his face remained for a moment only a shadow, as Sakura’s eyes accustomed themselves to the details of it (as opposed to the stark picture behind him) she saw that it wore an amiable expression. He put his hands behind his head and laughed.

“Is that so? Four, huh? And does she look like you?” For a moment, Sakura was too freaked out to speak.

“You know—what she looks like!” she then gasped.

“No, I’m sorry, Sakura-chan, I don’t. See, yur daughter—Sarada, right?—she isn’t Sasuke’s. Me and him just got back; we’ve been around the world for a while, just the two of us.”

“You’ve been—?“

“’Away’, yeah. To be honest, I’m surprised you didn’t know. Our bunshin were supposed to tell everyone once we’d gotten far enough. I’m guessing that didn’t happen for whatever reason.”

“Bun-shin. . ?”

“They’re still here—aren’t they? Our fakes.”

“STOP TALKING!” Sakura’s abrupt scream filled the hall. She glared furiously. “I can’t handle this right now, Naruto! Whoever you are! You’ve been _away_? Locked away and refusing to see anyone, rather! You even left Sasuke to rot in his own filth, even though you swore to him you’d never—”

“HEY!” Naruto barked. “I would never—let that happen to him!”

“Bullshit! Is this some jutsu you’ve made? Some medical rejuvenation jutsu?” One more time, she inspected Naruto’s body and gestured at it like some spectacle in poor taste.

“I don’t wanna deal with this! You hear me, Sakura-chan!? _I_ —don’t have to answer for everything between Heaven and Earth! Right now, I’m just here trying to get you to look at Sasuke because he’s hurt and he needs yur help! So if you wouldn’t mind, you can yell at me all you want! How’s that?” Pointing to himself, Naruto waited a moment, leaning closer to Sakura who turned her face away. “We really have been away,” he told her. “We had to come back for a bunch of reasons. We can talk, alright, but there’s an order to things: we need to see Kakashi-sensei cuz we think Konoha might be in danger. We can discuss the shitty bunshin afterwards, but first there’s _Sasuke_!” Sakura, patience gone, covered Naruto’s mouth with her hand. She looked him in the face, hissing:

“Choke on it already, will you? Whatever it is you want, you’ve got to bring the goddamn cavalry every time. . ! If it’ll shut you up I’ll look at your friend, but if he tries to get funny. . .” She briskly retraced her steps down the hall, if only to get away from Naruto whom never gave up. She could hear his voice clearly when he addressed her back.

“Thank you,” it said. She ignored him.

*

There was a rustle in the bushes, and a human voice.

The Uchiha district was infamously haunted. All of Konoha knew, and nobody else. The people living in the village could only guess (the nature of that district being classified information) but they understood well enough, even without the instruction never to go there. A few villagers had done so anyway and disappeared, one of whom having been shinobi themselves.

The question of what to do with ‘the ghost’ was one currently debated in Konoha. While it seemed like a simple matter, those pushing for extermination were rebuffed by the scarce few in power, turning it difficult.

The Hokage had opted to compromise with the majority, and ordered a ‘Containment’ plan be devised. His Intelligence Division was working away at figuring how in the world they would succeed in such an undertaking, when the Hokage-elect refused to help.

A tepee of molding planks was currently toppling amidst the ruins in question. Most of the district had been destroyed by Pein, but a fair amount remained. Konoha had made no attempt to rebuild any of it.

Bunshin-Sasuke growled, yanking on his dirty mantle. It had stuck on a nail, and he had been the cause for the toppling.

It was questionable whether or not he had any kind of mind left, human or animal. He was dangerous, this was sure, but he only rarely left the Uchiha district—and then for the one destination only.

*

“Honey? What’s wrong?” The Hokage-elect jumped. He was standing by the open glass door leading out on the veranda. With his attention to the air and his every fiber on edge, he had been searching for a hint, a second sign that would tell him what he already knew but was too afraid to admit: Naruto had returned.

“Huh?” He swiveled around and looked at his wife. She was pulling her cardigan tighter about herself, frowning at the open door. “Oh. Nothing. I—I’ll be working from home today.”

“You will? That’s unusual.”

“Sorry to bother you.”

“How would you be a bother? This is your home. I’m sure Boruto will be delighted!”

“I’ll be busy.” He looked back up at the sky.

“But just to see you. . .” Having not been listening, Bunshin-Naruto offered Hinata a smile and went into the yard to be alone. As he left, she closed the door and sighed, irritated with him. He pretended not to have heard that either.

There was no mistaking it, even if the signature was now gone. Naruto’s chakra had come on like a breeze from the North-West, then like a storm that raged in Bunshin-Naruto’s direction. Luckily, their connection had been broken, but he all the same understood that his old life was at last come to an end. He’d gone outside so his family wouldn’t see him cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *old-school, TV-action-show narrator voice* Join us next time for the exciting continuance of our drrrrama!


	11. Tug of War

It didn’t mean she believed a word of it.

Doctor Haruno, too soon, found herself standing outside of examination room number three, her fingertips making light contact with its door and her throat tight. She felt like right now any other awful thing in the world may happen, and it wouldn’t rouse her surprise nor intensify her sadness at all.

She was in the mental place where in the event that her daughter even were to be somehow taken from her (the worst thing imaginable), she would but join the child without a fight, wherever she may go—because Sakura had tried everything else already; because her company was the only thing she had left with which to at least comfort her child if she couldn’t protect her, circumstance having proven altogether too mighty.

And whose fault was that?

Sakura slowly opened the door (like someone greeting a grim fate) and thus revealed her husband’s likeness on the table, in the light. He lay reading a book—while she stood mindlessly before the very reason why her baby wouldn’t sleep in her own bed. Sakura stared.

That _damned_ Naruto! burst her trance! If this was some clumsy attempt to rekindle their friendship, then it was the most braindead attempt conceivable (which made it likely Naruto, in fact, would devise it). That, or he’d lost his mind. Sakura didn’t want to consider the implications of an insane Naruto for now. As for a third possibility: what if he’d been telling the truth? This impostor was anything but, and her husband was. . .

She wouldn’t believe a word of it: it was too late.

Sakura approached her patient, eerily.

“My name is Doctor Haruno, and I understand you’ve got a stab wound in your shoulder.” Sasuke closed his book with a _snap,_ and put it down somewhere behind himself while he sat up. Making steady eye contact, he then spoke in a voice which was spectral to Sakura, hitting her face like a cold and inexplainable breeze.

“Long time no see, Sakura. Have you missed me?”

*

Naruto remained in the hallway where he could be alone. His breath fogged up the glass of the window. There was a strong vacuum in his guts which made him feel heavy, level to the ground almost. ‘My and Sasuke’s bunshin never disappeared,’ it mouthed at him.

It was absolutely staggering to think that he’d lost touch with his own chakra enough that a piece of it could just dislodge, in a sense, without him even noticing. He hadn’t known that sort of thing was possible, in the first place.

Regardless of whether it dealt with his large capacity (which allowed for someone to get lost in) or whether it did with something else, the fact remained that no one had known Naruto had ever left Konoha, and this was the biggest issue to him. He felt replaceable. And that to such an extent that his concern for his village, and for Sasuke even, seemed to revolve on him, question and accuse him the very same moment he’d realized that not only had he inadvertently allowed for his life to be stolen, but that with Sakura’s doubt followed a reality wherein he, and not his bunshin, seemed like the impostor—so he was at once extremely concerned with proving himself as The Real One.

A feeling of rejection he’d not had in a long time was starting to revive, and at the mercy of that old sentiment, he seemed to both remember as well as forget himself.

“Naruto, isn’t it?” Shikamaru. Naruto was interrupted, and on tip-toes soon as that nostalgic voice called his name! He pivoted and looked at Shikamaru approaching through the hall with a group of unknown shinobi. Their headbands and rustling flak jackets were looking like the most perfectly wondrous things Naruto’s homesick eyes ever beheld, and so he smiled, ready to reseal his unwanted, black feelings in the hole they’d come from.

“ _Shikamaru_!” his voice shook. About to say something more, Naruto noticed the expressions on the unknown shinobi’s faces and recoiled emotionally. They distrusted him—even though he’d not been given the chance to prove himself yet!

“Yo!” said the pony-tailed brunette. He was casual and not opposed to touching Naruto, which for a split second made the blonde glad—before thinking it may be just to manipulate him. Naruto stared at Shikamaru’s hand on his bicep. “It’s been a long time! You enjoy your vacation?” The brunette was smiling, just zapping with interest like he was trying not to laugh.

“You—guys are gonna trouble yourselves over this. . ?” Naruto spoke in a rush. He recognized what Shikamaru had come for, but didn’t want to think the Intelligence Division had to examine him. His own denial aside, that they had come screamed of top-priority—because Konoha was never idle, and couldn’t spare any personnel.

“Afraid so. Seems there’s been some kind of mix-up. You’re going to have to come with us for now, but you’re well aware of that.” Naruto looked behind himself, at where he could see the silver digit ‘3’ winking at him.

“A _mix-up_. . !”

“It’s nothing too serious, but we do need to ask you a few things, Naruto.”

“I—but wait,” flashing a smile at his old classmate, Naruto met with a gesture to come the opposite way from the door.

“Yes?”

“I can’t just leave Sasuke. . !” Shikamaru found Naruto’s motivation unimportant, or dangerous, countering with:

“You’re not _afraid_ of me, are you? It’s just an interview!” But interviews can turn the world on its head, and Naruto had recently come into some bad experiences with them. “It doesn’t have to take long. I don’t like wasting time, myself, so what do you say we both open up our evenings?”

“I—sure! _I know_!—But—Sasuke!”

“He’s in there?” Shikamaru pointed.

“Yeah!”

“Then he’s being seen by a medic. We mustn’t interrupt any procedures like that, of course. So, come with me. There’re just a few things I have to run you through. You should know all about it!” There was normally no way Naruto would go anywhere too far from Sasuke, but coming with Shikamaru this instant wasn’t a request (the division head’s leisure only a farce) and Naruto knew well that he would be let go again, as quickly as Shikamaru implied, when Naruto proved himself not to warrant suspicion anymore—which he intended to do right away.

He sighed and stepped forward to under Shikamaru’s waiting arm. The brunette seemed quietly delighted.

“This is some mess I’ve gotten myself into,” Naruto grumbled, to which his classmate smiled, his fingers cramping around the fabric of the shirt he held, and he replied:

“I’ll say!” while his team mates contrasted him with their wariness, and senses thrown open wide.

 

*

She hadn’t answered his question at all.

Sasuke hadn’t seen Sakura in six years, not since they’d said goodbye by the Konoha gates. She and Kakashi were the only people in the village he actually wouldn’t so much mind seeing, and now with her in front of him after so long, he felt a little giddy, recognizing curiosity in himself even while he was by no uncertain terms being dismissed and hardly knowing why.

Sakura had been examining Sasuke with callous professionalism, or tried to, but he’d noticed the way she flinched when he slipped out of the hospital gown; noticed also how her body language was clumsy, how she kept sneaking glances at parts of him she had no business looking at when she thought he couldn’t see.

At the conclusion of the physio, Sakura began the medical ninjutsu evaluation. Her hands shone green, casting this light across Sasuke’s white skin and her coat. The air hummed with power. Sakura found that her patient had nerve damage, had nicked the axillary vein, and she resorted to doing some work on this large blood vessel. As lucky as he was, she understood he must’ve bled a lot.

It was best to let the body heal on its own so long as the patient was stable, otherwise there may be some irreversible loss of sensation and movability. Sakura explained that Sasuke needed physical therapy, and instructed him on how to raise his arms, rotate them, point his fingers, and how to clench his fists.

Finally she became quiet, her work close to finished. She held Sasuke’s left arm in her hands, lost in thought and looking heartbroken. Sasuke (who would’ve pulled back) allowed her the contact for sentimentality’s sake.

He guessed her behavior had to do with her being in love with him still, but he wasn’t like his blabbing friend: he knew not to let it show.

“You are—surprisingly healthy,” Sakura spoke without warning, and Sasuke offered his full attention. “Strong,” she said. “That’s good. The wound, at both sites, is dry and—I won’t be admitting you for a drain as it is right now. Instead, what you’ll be doing three times a day is clean both openings with a sterile solution, then packing them with clean gauze. Take the old gauze _out_ before putting new in!” She ordered this last part with a spike in her tone of voice, and Sasuke nodded to prove he was listening. “It’s very important you don’t keep anything in the wound for more than eight hours at a time! So, at morning, lunch and evening, you’ll undress the wound, take the gauze out, clean the wound, pack it with _clean_ gauze and redress the wound with _clean_ bandages! You do this to _both_ openings! Do you have any questions?”

“I’ve had wounds before, Sakura.”

“Well!” she scoffed. “If you have, it’s a miracle you’re still alive. . ! I feel it’s imperative I explain this to you so listen carefully: when you came in here today, you had several pieces of old coagulative cloth in your shoulder that should’ve been taken out ages ago. Eight hours—max—is my recommendation as far as packing a wound like yours is concerned. So who did it?”

“Naruto did.” Sakura’s brows crashed into one another like a pair of rams at this admission. Of course it had been Naruto.

“Naruto doesn’t know a thing about infection: you shouldn’t let him care for you or anyone else long-term!” she spat. “Infection is a very serious complication that can lead to shock—something that can and will kill you! Do you understand now it’s important to keep a wound clean?”

“I do. . ! But had I taken it out and started bleeding, Sakura, what would you propose we then should’ve done about it?” Sasuke was annoyed at the criticism, suspecting Sakura hadn’t treated field-trauma since the war. He felt that she was acting jaded and making unfair remarks. Plus, Sakura hadn’t seen what it had done to Naruto to be put in the position of treating Sasuke—something he felt was awful to overlook. “Should we have applied pressure and hoped the bleeding stopped again? You should realize that stopping the bleeding and limiting the risk of infection _as much as possible_ before making straight for a hospital is what we were trained to do, because it entails the highest chance of survival! Stopping to play doctor isn’t my job, and it’s not Naruto’s job either!”

“You shouldn’t have probed the wound at all!” Sakura had lost all professionalism. She was beside herself—clinging to Sasuke’s arm still.

“In my opinion, not taking the precaution would’ve been more dangerous because we’d no way of knowing whether I was bleeding internally or not. I shouldn’t have to explain to a physician that it takes a person to bleed out significantly less time than it does to die of infection.”

“So to avoid it, you go _racing_ —!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“No!?”

“ _No_ , because he carried me!” Sakura ceased all movement. Sasuke fidgeted. His cheeks warmed at the humiliating memory and for the first time since their reunion, he shied away from Sakura’s gaze. “He carried me almost the entire way,” he said.

Sakura knew her patient had been injured four days ago. It was written in her notepad, and her examination of the injury had confirmed things.

“He really is insane then.” Sakura deadpanned this, not admitting aloud what she had decided.

It was like this (and we’ll look at the problem in its entirety): Sakura’s patient could be a spy, pretending to be Sasuke Uchiha; he could be Sasuke’s bunshin; Sasuke himself, or somebody else’s bunshin, transformed into Sasuke.

Doctor Haruno made up her mind not to trust the Naruto from the hall.

The individual stuck in Sakura’s grip had two things aiding his credibility: he knew about shinobi field-medic training, and he spoke just like Sasuke would’ve done about it and general things—even the way he moved was the same. Meaning that if it was a transformation technique then it was the best one Sakura had ever seen, and she could not yet say whether there would be an end to the similarities between him and Sasuke Uchiha, but believed there had to be.

Trying to say where these similarities ended indeed, Sakura needed a plan of approach. She chose to approach him now, not as ‘Naruto’s mystery friend’ but as a foreign spy, because it suited her, and because of circumstances about to be shared with the reader:

The other week, a young Hyuuga girl confided in Jounin Udon Ise, Intelligence Administrator, that she had been accosted by ‘mysterious foreigners’ asking questions about the war. Ise had taken this information to his superior, Shikamaru Nara, whom directly ordered the girl be apprehended for interrogation. However, as his orders were to be carried out, instead of finding the girl, Nara’s subordinates found her completely missing and the Hyuuga clan outraged.

The body of a stranger was shortly thereafter discovered in Training Area X, floating on the river. These particular training grounds happening to border the Uchiha district, The Ghost, Sasuke Uchiha, was made the likely killer. The Hokage was shocked at the events unfolding, and enforced an immediate lockdown on the village along with a priority A dispatchment, seeking to locate the infiltrators. For a week, Konoha had been drawing a blank. Now, there was an extra set of her two most powerful shinobi appeared at the hospital—obviously, it was suspicious in the extreme.

Sakura was deeply disturbed by the uncanniness of her husband’s lookalike, refusing to think it could actually be Sasuke. So, if her patient was a spy, it followed that the one in the hall must also be one. Were they such, their intel was amazing. However, they couldn’t possibly pretend to be Naruto and Sasuke of all people without feigning some chakra-related illness—could they? It would be a good trial for them; one she would have to relay to the Hokage.

Sakura considered the three remaining options touching these people’s identities. ‘Naruto’s’ assurance was resounding in her head, repeating that he and ‘Sasuke’ had been away, and accusing the two in the village of being merely their bunshin.

So, along the lines of Naruto and Sasuke having created bunshin, Sakura found that this one sitting before her (along with that one in the hall!) could just as well be them if there had to be any. And were there, there was the question of just whom reaped the greater benefits of having made a clone of themselves. It certainly didn’t make Naruto, the Hokage-elect, look good. Not to mention: could Sasuke even do such a thing? If he could create a bunshin with such awareness and presence of mind, then he wasn’t himself wild in the least. Pretending? No way. Sakura was a doctor: she knew a person can’t pretend like that. As much as she hated it, her patient and hallway-Naruto seemed credible in this regard. She doubted them anyway.

Thirdly: her patient wasn’t actually the real Sasuke, not by any stretch of Sakura’s imagination.

And finally, Naruto might’ve created both bunshin for some perverted reason—in which case it was about damn time somebody made that workaholic explain himself.

Sakura was unlike her fellow shinobi loyalty-wise, and so the reader should have no problem anticipating her own plans for anyone taking the name of Sasuke Uchiha; likewise, how she was unyielding in thinking her patient was a spy, was an imposter, was a possible leg up.

She had a dark idea to put his likeness to the test, and so, at feeling her defeatism melting, the Will of Fire lit the end of Sakura’s introspection.

*

“Could I—” Doctor Haruno began, lilting her voice artificially “—borrow your hand a minute?” Finding it already in her grasp, she felt a little dumb but none distracted. She passed her palm over the skin of Sasuke’s forearm. He frowned at the caress as the hairs stood up. “As I thought. Do you see how your hair stands up when I do this? That may be indicative of a disruption in your chakra channels. Did you know that?” For this, Sakura received a reaction of such recognition and hope she nearly faulted her patient for it, feeling her heart leap without her permission. “It’s usually only a mild condition,” she hurried to say. “In most cases it even goes away on its own and won’t bother you again. But in a few, rare cases I’m afraid it can be chronic—even permanent. Either way, you’re in luck because we’re very good at helping people with this type of disorder here and making their lives easier.”

“ _You know what’s wrong with me_?” Sasuke was whispering, feeling like he would do well to drop to his knees and kowtow.

“I see this doesn’t come as a surprise to you. What type of issues have you been experiencing?” He paused for a moment, thinking, then admitted:

“I can’t really use jutsu—not to any reliable extent, in any case.”

“Not at all?”

“ _Mm_. Occasionally I can pull it off, but it doesn’t look like I’m improving any. Under stress, I suppose, sometimes I’ll generate sparks or fire. I’ve tried to narrow down the circumstances when it happens or when my body does what I want but so far. . . It’s just random.”

“And the sharingan?”

“I can use it, but it’s painful.”

“ _Show me. . !_ If you wouldn’t mind.” Sasuke did, not paying attention to the strangeness of Sakura’s tone. With a wince running through his entire body, his eyes assumed the appearance which was strictly Sasuke Uchiha’s unique phenotype. The red star-shape almost seemed to taunt Sakura. She clicked her tongue at him. Then said:

“What you’re saying doesn’t surprise me. This condition comes in four flavors, if you will. The first is the auto-immune version, where you’ll see a steady decline in the normal chakra production of a person, as well as elevated levels of white blood cells relating directly to chakra synthesis.

With the traumatic version, caused by things like toxic exposure or some other injury, you’ll see a declined ability in chakra synthesis which is unchanging, as well as no change in white blood cell count in relation to chakra synthesis.

With the congenital version—something you’re born with—you’ll see a person whose chakra potency is unnaturally weak.

And lastly, with the neurological version, you’ll see chakra that fluctuates in potency over time—like what you’re describing. You have any joint pain? Inflammation has been observed in all four types.”

“No. No pain like that.”

“Anything besides your eyes hurting?”

“No.” Sasuke blinked, and the sharingan was gone.

“I see. . . What I just did to you—running my hand over your arm and seeing the hairs stand up—is a bedside-method of determining whether a person may be suffering from this kind of disorder. It’s called the Haruno Test—“ Sakura winked “—You’re right where you belong. Of course, there’s no way of knowing for sure whether you’re sick or not until we get your blood back. I’ll run some extra tests, and tell you more then.”

“ _Anything_! Run any tests you want. . ! Then—it’s fixable?”

“We’re currently on human trials, testing out two different types of medication to treat it. Some physical therapy is also available, should you be interested. The prognosis is very optimistic as for the neurological version, so let’s hope it’s that if anything.”

“A neurological disorder. . .” Sasuke said thoughtfully. “So—synaptic dynamics, right? A plasticity problem?” Sakura almost swallowed her tongue, was almost afraid. Sasuke suddenly looked a hell of a lot more like a spy, saying that.

“We know very little about synapses,” she pointed out. “How did you come to make that connection yourself?”

“I read a certain book which went into the subject.”

“What book?”

“I’d rather not specify,” Sasuke was smiling, because the book lay at his hip.

“Why not?”

“The author writes about things which could devastate the world if any information were to be let out without due care. I’ve memorized every page, every paragraph. Help me, and I’ll show you the book as thanks.”

“Are you kidding?” Sakura snorted, but wasn’t inclined to refuse. “I was planning on helping you anyway! These disorders are _my_ discovery. I was made head of this hospital for it!”

“You don’t need to grease me up, Sakura.” Sasuke’s expression turned warm, and did things to Sakura she would be loath to admit.

“Well then,” she agreed. “Blood works. Sit.”

Walking out of the examination room, Sakura had to fight herself not to scream with laughter. She stormed towards the lab, her face pink and contorted in a grotesque grimace.

He was sick!

There was an error! And her own specialty, to boot!

She didn’t give a crap about his book: if the blood came back positive, and the similarities between her patient and her husband allowed, then she knew how to kill Sasuke! Sarada would be safe!

*

It was dark out.

The hospital wasn’t far from the Intelligence Division’s seat of operation; a ten minute walk at a brisk pace would bring one right up on their back door.

Naruto assumed correctly that he wouldn’t be taken along the main street. To Konoha, escorting a security threat (such as he appeared to be) along the most heavily trafficked place in the village, would only put an uncalled-for amount of civilians at risk.

To avoid this, they would need to zigzag a bit.

Naruto was led out of the hospital, lodged in the iron grip of his childhood classmate—a fact that hurt. Being surrounded on every side by his colleagues failed to matter as much as that Shikamaru could stand to hold him like that.

Naruto looked behind at the hospital building. He was thinking that he might see Sasuke somehow in a window, shadow-like as always. But he had to curb his disappointment when he wasn’t there, and turn back around without Sasuke having seen him leave.

They’d be reunited again soon—definitely.

The party travelled along the _Yamanaka/Police Station way_ to the west, then continued southwest on the _Aviary/Yamanaka way_ until they came to the _Yama-Hyuu-Avi-Residential intersection_ whereupon they hurried northwestward.

Villagers in the street were watching them with plain curiosity as they moved passed, and Naruto considered just what effect this arrest would have on his reputation. At least, he wasn’t in chains.

Did the villagers even recognize him, though? he wondered. If the reactions of Sakura and the receptionist at the hospital were any indication, Naruto’s bunshin had come to look different from him.

He was suddenly made to walk faster when Shikamaru tugged impatiently on him. Naruto’s toe caught on the ground, and he scuffed a streak in it and hopped.

They’d left the safety of the great clans’ domain and so the agents worried about reinforcements, naturally. Say that if Naruto wanted to fight back, he’d be wise to do so now—a strategy that, to him, looked utterly insane because he’d no desire to hurt anyone. But that they thought he might actually attack, hurt him.

Naruto steamed, playing along nicely all the way to their end goal.

The Intelligence Division’s headquarters consisted of a deceptively benign single-story building, with happy little bushes out front and curtains in the windows. It was next door to the Hokage Building, both entrances grinning at each other across _Intel/HB way_.

Deceptive, that is to the letter. An additional, subterraneous level, sprawled all the way to the southeastern edge of the Correctional Facility, 1.5 kilometers away. And in that spot where after the corridors had filed to a single gangway-like stretch that ended like horror sometimes succeeds displeasure, there gaped an elevator shaft, one that led up into the Torture Division’s medieval care.

For political prisoners, that elevator was the last stop before their existence turned into one of utmost repentance—Naruto had heard of it. Sasuke had been through it.

*

Long fingers brushed the slab of the iron table meanwhile Shikamaru ambled around it. His footsteps tapped almost the walls: the closeness of the interrogation room was so profound.

Naruto sat in a metal chair, his hands knit on the table, watching the other man with open dislike. The room was cold and disagreeable to him. He was tired, hungry. They’d been in there for what was by now close to forty-five minutes, and the so-called interrogator wouldn’t answer any questions.

Naruto had resorted to waiting.

“I don’t want to help you,” Shikamaru suddenly admitted for the silence. His voice was soft, almost drowsy, and Naruto was surprised. “I already know you’re not Naruto, so I’ve got no reason to help you at all. I’m afraid I don’t need anything from you, either, so you can’t bargain with me to. You follow? In 12 hours I make my report to the Hokage, and I could easily assign someone besides myself to collect your testimony—the reason I haven’t yet, is because I’m interested to learn about what kind of dumbass would actually try impersonating that guy.” Shikamaru placed a cigarette between his lips, a patronizing smile already on them. He then jutted the packet in Naruto’s direction, and took a seat across from him. The blonde shook his head, waving his hand. “No? Up to you. I’m quite the fortune-teller, I’ll have you know, and I’m feeling pretty good today.” It was almost too bright in the room to see the little plume on Shikamaru’s lighter. He nodded at it, and that’s how Naruto knew it was there. “Three minutes—is all I’ve got for you.” The zip-lighter closed with a flick of the wrist, then it was put away inside a snug pocket. When Shikamaru exhaled, the interrogation room immediately became hazy and Naruto exploded in a fit of coughing.

“Yer—out of yur mind for smoking those, ya know,” he wheezed, throat closed. “I hope you don’t make it a regular habit. . !”

Shikamaru twitched a corner of his mouth upwards.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Hacking! (gasp) Being detained! Supposed to be answering a buncha questions or something. I guess that’s starting now?”

“You’re offended by the smoke?”

“I’m not offended, but I can’t breathe! Since yur asking, shouldn’t the offense be yours? Ya know, you really gotta thank Kakashi-sensei for yur desk job!”

“Answer the question.”

“I am! Jeez (cough) (cough)! I’m here—just because I’m back now, alright? I actually left damn near exactly six years ago, and Sasuke did too—not that any of you seem to’ve noticed. . ! We were gonna come back anyway because of something funny being wrong with our chakra, but then all kinds of things happened, and Sasuke got hurt by these total wackjobs back in Iron. We came to warn you and get medical attention, ya know.”

“Wait, slow down.” The smoke of his cigarette made a chalky swivel in the air, as Shikamaru’s hand leapt.

“Wha—”

“You’re saying you’re Naruto—”

“Obviously I am! There’s only one of me, ya know!”

“—but there’s already a person in Konoha by that name. Someone who hasn’t left since the war for anything but joint missions.”

“That’s what I’m saying, though! He’s just my bunshin; he’s not me!”

“And yet you’re the one who’s suddenly appeared.”

“So? Can you tell me you’ve kept an eye on that guy, the whole time since you were seventeen?”

“Okay, I get your point. On that note: if he’s a bunshin, how do you explain him not disappearing for six years?”

“That’s—I can’t explain it. He was supposed to’ve vanished just a few days after we left.”

“He’s rogue, then?”

“Do you call it that? I didn’t even know bunshin could disobey, ya know. Even though they kinda did once, I suppose. . .”

“It’s not an established term; the Kage Bunshin technique is forbidden to practice. It’s not like there’ve been very many case studies of it. Let’s just call it ‘rogue’ for now. It still doesn’t explain how he’s lasted so long—if he’s a bunshin.”

“Like I already said: I don’t know how to explain it. And I know how it sounds. . !”

“I’m guessing you can’t dispel the technique?”

“I—uh—hadn’t thought—that far, yet.”

“. . .Are you serious?”

“Hey, look, man! There’s been a lot of crazy stuff happening lately, alright, and I didn’t even know he was still around until, like, this afternoon!”

“Okay, fine. . ! You hadn’t thought of it. Try it now.”

“Well, uh—I mean, I can’t even sense him. Maybe I need to be closer first?”

“Forget it. Shouldn’t a loss of contact between the original body and the bunshin result in an automatic dispelling?”

“Normally, yeah. But I’m telling you there’s nothing normal about this! He’s _rogue_! Like you said!”

“Okay. A rogue, six-year-old bunshin the original body can’t sense. This isn’t looking so good for you, I’ll tell you that as an incentive.” Shikamaru inspected his cigarette. It was at half-mast. “Uchiha Sasuke, then, also left his bunshin here upon leaving with you six years ago. And that’s the individual we’ve come to associate as Sasuke himself?” Naruto thought about it for a second. Then, he nodded vigorously, squeezing his thighs in his hands.

“Yeah!” he said. “As far as I know, ya know!”

“So, when you say there’s something funny with your chakra, that means Sasuke’s chakra’s funny too, and he can’t sense his own bunshin any more than you can sense yours. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Right on the money. Uh, that is—I’m sorry to confirm it, ya know.” Shikamaru snorted at him, saying:

“How convenient.”

“Look, I’m not making this up!”

“Admitting it would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Save your breath; that’s not how I work.”

“Yeah, I _know_ how you work! I’ve known you since we were, like, six! So, let me prove it already!”

“You want to try proving it?” Shikamaru laughed and propped his chin in his palm, sinking into a lazy slouch. “Alright! Prove you know how I work!”

“Well—didn’t expect you to put me right on the spot—even if this is an interview.” Shikamaru’s smile widened. “Like—okay—yeah! Yer _smart_ ; that’s yur thing. Yer probably the smartest person in Konoha, if not in all the hidden villages, right? So—like—it’s not as if we were ever best friends or anything! I can’t tell you things like the name of the stuffed bear you used to sleep with as a kid, but—I know you were the first of us to graduate to chuunin! It made me crazy jealous, after all.

I guess that doesn’t prove much, but. . . Hear me out: I was too stupid as a kid to understand how brains are invaluable in a fight, but that changed, growing up! So, that’s why I’ve a question for you too: if yer so smart, how come you can’t tell I’m me already? That’s what yer doing, asking me questions and seeing how I react. Right?” Naruto learned in this moment that talking with people one knew in childhood, has the power of reverting oneself to the child one used to be. He was defensive and loud, babbling when he should be thinking. “Damnit. . !” Even so, he made a good point according to Shikamaru’s purposes.

“Let’s move on, shall we?” The interrogator straightened back up in his seat. He looked at a piece of paper retrieved from his pocket, then slowly put it back. Naruto grit his teeth in frustration.

Convincing Shikamaru he knew him would require some good secret, and it was the first part to the course of actions needed for Naruto to prove his identity to him; second, if he knew Shikamaru as well as he thought, then the man was currently getting all his ducks in a row and preparing Naruto for some sort of hot spotlight that would do away any plastic disguise; like the ever-referred-to thing in the night sky wanes its wax sometimes into a blood-pricking-ly sharp leer, or a shit-eating grin, either way, most importantly, with darkness trenching on its face; a matter of beeswax that was none of Shikamaru’s, or anyone’s, would all the same let out the buzzing, angry reality of Naruto’s innards.

The trap was a welcome-mat: Shikamaru could hear the bees. He looked away because there was no doubt in him (like Naruto had suggested)—the suspect himself stayed engaged because he believed he could take control, and win the match his way.

“I know you had the hots for Sasuke when you were twelve,” he blurted. The Intelligence head froze, and lay a weird frown on Naruto.

“What?”

“Yeah! Don’t act like you don’t remember! In class, before any of us were graduated, I had to sit next to him so I had a front row seat to spotting anyone making goo-goo eyes, ya know. I wasn’t surprised about the girls, but seeing _you_ do it—that, I didn’t expect.” Naruto chuckled to himself, crossing his arms. “Suppose it broke yur heart too then—when that guy pushed me, and I ended up sucking face with him.” Naruto was bragging, and Shikamaru noticed it wisely.

“I did not—use to have a thing for him,” he replied.

“Did, too; yer totally blushing!”

“I am not.”

“Is so!”

“If anyone had a thing for him, it was Naruto. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”

“No, _duh_!”

“Can we go over the next point?” Shikamaru laughed. “Wackjobs! You mentioned wackjobs. What happened?” Picking the cigarette butt from his mouth, he looked at it before mashing it under heel. He then pointedly held Naruto’s stare as he lit another one. When the prisoner pursed his lips on the words ‘my win’, Shikamaru made an impatient gesture, urging him to: “Go on!”

The secret had been good enough. Next came the fire trial, and Naruto had a feeling he was going to hate it.

“Fine.” He scratched his nose and leaned back, pleased with himself. “We met a buncha wackjobs in the Land of Iron. They were probably the guests of the old General, at least their leader was, ya know. It was an ambush. They said they wanted to talk about the war.”

“The samurai were lodging them?”

“Yeah. Without a doubt.”

“Why were the wackjobs interested in the war?”

“How should I know!? They were pretty adamant about it, though. Said me and Sasuke had to talk with them in their freaky machine. It was when we refused to do that, that they attacked.”

“Machine?”

“Big, flying thing.”

“I see. And General Mifune, what did he do during the attack?”

“Beats me. . ! I was pretty busy at the time to notice.”

“How would you describe the wackjobs’ fighting style, then?”

“Well—they had projectile launchers—ones that fired without reloading—ya know, automatically. They were very fast. . ! They got me with them, and—I lost consciousness. When I came to, Sasuke also had been shot, but they didn’t get him with the same thing they did me; he was bleeding a lot. I thought they’d actually killed him. . !”

“They got you both. Their weaponry must be very fast indeed, in that case.”

“To be fair, Sasuke getting hurt was pretty much entirely my fault. . ! If I hadn’t been so careless, he wouldn’t’ve had to—. . .” As Naruto cooled and trailed off, Shikamaru thought about means of boxing him in. He tried gauging the one his suspect kept circling back on, eager to see whether it rested on solid ground or not, if it would rather hold his own added weight. The obviousness of the means in question (Sasuke) making the appearance of a trap laid in contest to his own, at first made him avoid the subject, but Shikamaru was becoming relaxed on that outcome.

He made up his mind on this angle, notwithstanding it was, to him, absolute gossip and straight from the horse’s mouth.

“Naruto and Sasuke have always been close,” he tried stating. The spotlight had turned on. Naruto’s sweat began to run under it. He started a little bit, crossing his ankles. Looking at the other man, he became guarded unlike before, reticent, even.

“Yeah?” His tone was accusatory.

“Too close?” Shikamaru hid his mouth behind his hand, sucking on his cigarette.

“Whattaya mean ‘too close’?” Naruto huffed. “Does that make it up to you?”

“What kind of relationship do you think they share, exactly?”

“’They’! ‘ _We’_ , damn it! Give me a fucking break!”

“Well?”

“ _We’re_ _friends_ , ya know!”

“Why don’t you elaborate on that? I’d love to hear the details.” Naruto glared for a full minute, wasting time on purpose.

“None of yur business. . !” he then spat. Naruto was bucking, as was like him, and Shikamaru offered his sympathy.

“Naruto is a fiercely loyal individual. His favorite person was always Uchiha Sasuke. To my mind, there’s no way that could change. Things like marriage and parenthood accentuating that favoritism, well—let’s just say I, for one, understand.”

“I’m not married. . ! I’m nobody’s parent.”

“Right.”

“I’m _obviously_ me!”

“Ourselves is all any of us are, or ever can be—hence, why you and I are in this room together. It’s better to see our nature as a reliability than anything else: people are all weak, after all—weak to disappointment—weak to pain. It makes us sick, same as it unites us. That, equally, makes it okay.”

“Yer on the wrong trail, Shikamaru—”

“You think I don’t know what it’s like to feel pressured? If you push a person too far, they will break—we’re all the same that way.”

“— _I’m not the same as anyone_!” It was unlike Naruto to yell and slam his palms into table tops, but he did so now, frightfully. “You think I regretted the way my life turned out, and ran away! Ya know, you may be smart but yer not smart enough to tell me what I’m thinking! No one is! It’s impossible!”

“What does it matter if I’m wrong so long as I think you are who you say you are? Would you rather give up your identity over admitting defeat?”

“I would admit it in a heartbeat—if it was true!”

“The fight isn’t over until you say it is, is it?” An extended silence ensued, and when Shikamaru’s ashes fell on the table, his focus was broken. The cigarette was finished. Naruto wasn’t looking at him anymore, but biting his lip and wringing his hands. Shikamaru put the burned out thing down on the table, and said:

“The individuals Konoha knows as Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke are both sick. Not even the undisputed master of the Shadow Clone technique could create two clones perfect enough to last indefinitely.” It was meant to be reassuring. Naruto flicked his gaze in Shikamaru’s direction, but not because he was comforted—instead he shuddered.

“I didn’t run away,” he whispered. Clearing his throat, he then loudly affirmed: “I didn’t.”

“Whatever you want to call it, let the first thing be ‘stupid’,” shrugged Shikamaru.

“I couldn’t let Sasuke go! Not after—after I fought so hard to get him to come home!”

“It was the only way, huh?”

“Well, he was leaving again; he said so! I had to go with him or all I’d fought for would’ve been wasted, ya know?”

“Here’s what I know: I know you knew the Hokage would’ve stopped you if _he’d_ known you were leaving the village. Uzumaki Naruto was made Hokage-elect October 2007; it would’ve been unthinkable for him to bail on his duties—so, you arranged a substitute for yourself. Sasuke alone was given leave that time, but Konoha was led to understand he came back just a few days after departure—because he’d agreed to your plan by then, and sent his own substitute to join yours. Or are they both yours?”

“The bunshin weren’t supposed to be long-term substitutes! We wouldn’t trick you like that! It was just until we’d come far enough away that we couldn’t be found!”

“So, did you make both?”

“No! I just made my own! Why would I make both!?”

“I don’t know. But _you_ knew we’d come looking for you, as soon as the bunshin disappeared. You’re telling me you didn’t engineer all of this for the sake of your honeymoon? Because it sure looks like it. I find it hard to believe, honestly, that you would’ve ever come back again if the choice had been yours.”

“Sasuke’s the one who wanted to stay away, not me. He’s convinced—people hate him, so he doesn’t want to deal with anyone he cares about; of course he doesn’t want to come home.”

“You’re the exception, then?”

“Only barely, I mean. . . Tooth and nail, and all that.”

“What’s your relationship with him? It’s not just friendship. You don’t give up your dreams, limbs and freedom for a friend—not even a best friend.” Naruto sighed heavily at this. For a spell, it looked like he wouldn’t answer this time either. But—

“For the record—” he started, ”—wouldn’t it be superfluous to explain what he means to me?” Gesturing to Shikamaru’s wedding band, he added: “I’m sure you get it.” The old friend was thereby made to look down, and looked then back up again with such an expression of pity that Naruto knew the interview was over. Shikamaru folded his brow, was then smoothing it out again with his fingers.

“Naruto,” he said. “There’s a way about things. With Sasuke, you don’t ever go about them correctly. I don’t think you realize the type of mess you’ve made for yourself this time.”

“But you know I’m me now, right?” Naruto brightened hopefully, was happy to be believed, but sadness at the same time dimmed the glow about him to a nimbus, and it was the most honest as he’d ever appeared.

“Yes, I know you’re you! But I’m just one person, all things considered—”

“Still, you’ll help convince everyone, won’t you?”

“—like I’m trying to explain to you, this crazy stunt of yours—and Sasuke’s—have left a big ole dent behind in the lives of those close to you! I’ll help you, alright? I’ve got a plan.”

“Already? Way to go, Shikamaru!” The redness to Naruto’s skin slowly faded, the clenched smile loosening up.

“Sure. But as you mentioned, people’s minds are hard to foretell. . . I call it ‘Tug of War’, and it relies completely on your ability to perform.”

“Whatever you need, I can do it, ya know! I’m yur man!”

“I need you to execute a grade A jutsu on command, in front of a crowd.”

“What? Wait—but, I told you! My chakra’s funny! It’s totally unreliable, ya know!”

“If the pressure’s too much, don’t think I can’t make accommodations. Just say so.”

“It’s fine, I guess. . ! I’ll do it or die trying, ya know!” Naruto joked, laughing when he would’ve ducked under the table had he known he wasn’t fooling Shikamaru at all. The true Hokage-elect’s well of self-reliance had been infected by something, and the person in the room with him was first to smell the rot.

“You can do it,” he told him. “I know you can.” It was clear that the attested faith in his ability made Naruto uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time, the chapter took longer coming than ever, huh? I've been crazy, super busy. But HAH! this chapter also had my head spinning, gotta admit. I mean, I'm just writing for my own sake; it's a bonus if people actually like reading my stuff, too, so I hope anyone happening to be here is enjoying themselves, is what I'm getting at ;)


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